


I Like the Way You Bend for Me, Baby

by TheCellarDoor



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, harry also teaches yoga and sexually frustrates louis because tight leggings, so much of it like w o w, they cuddle a lot because who doesn't love cuddles, they're all uni students, zayn and niall are louis' room mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-01-19 10:32:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 50,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1466161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCellarDoor/pseuds/TheCellarDoor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Uni AU, in which Harry is a part-time yoga instructor with rock hard nipples and skin-tight leggings, and Louis most definitely isn’t charmed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [I Like The Way You Bend For Me, Baby](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3695480) by [mybuchanan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybuchanan/pseuds/mybuchanan)



> A massive, ginormous thank you goes to Cara aka mystardustmelody on Tumblr who is amazing at fixing my messes! Any mistake you see is all mine. I've got more chapters written, so it'll be updated fairly quickly and regularly. :)

“Come to yoga with me.”

Louis paused, just about to open a bottle of beer with the help of the already chipped kitchen countertop. “What?”

“Me. You. A little yoga date down at the student centre.”

“How is that a date?” The cap flew off with a pop and a clink. He took a swig, his voice edging on obnoxiously whiny. “A date is supposed to be _fun_. Like going to a theme park or ice skating and watching you fall on your arse. You never treat me right.”

Zayn slumped against the counter in defeat, his forehead resting on his crossed forearms. “Louis, please?”

Shit. The thing was, Louis knew Zayn didn’t like to ask for things. He was proud and stubborn and hated to inconvenience anyone. He didn’t say “please” as long as he could avoid it, so. Shit. “Fucking… fine.”

Zayn jumped up, dancing around Louis and grinning so hard Louis was worried Zayn’s face would split in two. He had a vague suspicion he’d just been conned by his best friend.

*******

“It will be good for you,” Zayn said, nudging him in the side as they walked. Louis kicked at a pebble sullenly, watched it skip down ahead of them and disappear in grass. “All that junk food is going straight to your arse.”

“How dare you!” Louis palmed his left arse cheek through his joggers and jiggled it. “This is prime quality bum. You’re just jealous because you have none.”

An elderly lady passed them by, checking him out with a not-so-subtle grin.

“Did you see that? She wanted a piece of this!”

Zayn slapped Louis’ bum before Louis could dance out of his ninja-like reach. Zayn was an ass man, always had been. “Can’t blame her.”

“Mate, we need to find you someone. Like, yesterday. I can’t take this kind of sexual harassment anymore,” Louis said, narrowly escaping having his bum pinched in revenge.

“No one measures up to you, Loueh. You’ll always be my favourite.”

“You better not be lying or I will be very upset.”

“I would _never_.”

They walked in silence for a bit until Louis could no longer help himself. “Since when are you into the whole zen thing anyway?” He giggled to himself. “Get it? Zen?” He was a fucking riot.

Zayn seemed to disagree, if his eye-roll was anything to go by. It was the fifth one today. Not that Louis was keeping count or anything. “Just thought you might like to try something new. Get some exercise beside the odd game of footie.”

“Does yoga even count? How hard can it be?”

*******

The small corner of the gym was closed off with dark, heavy curtains, the dimmed lights bouncing off the polished wooden floor. People stopped milling around the gym and started setting up instead, taking their shoes off and rolling out the mats. Louis was hundred percent confident he was going to smash this. Show Zayn up, just because he could. What was life without the fun of competing, eh?

He was kicking his shoes off when a tall, tanned curly man walked in. Louis was suddenly very glad he’d put on his most “come-hither” joggers, the ones that hugged his best attributes just right.

“I think I get why you’ve been coming here now. I’m having a sudden change of heart.”

Zayn sighed like a fourteen-year-old girl with a crush. “He’s fit, isn’t he?”

“He can bend me over any day. And I don’t do that just for anyone.” More like only once, and it was more than disappointing. Louis didn’t like to talk about it.

“His bloody arms,” Zayn whispered reverently. “So strong. I reckon he could pick me up like I weigh nothing.”

“You do weigh nothing.” Louis grabbed two of the spare mats, handing one to Zayn. Tall, Tanned and Curly was wearing leggings. Fucking skin-tight black _leggings_ and a loose white tee with the sleeves pinned up at his broad shoulders, a polka-dotted bandana holding his hair back. Who even was this kid? And was that a banana stuffed down his pants or was he just naturally gifted? Fuck. “I’m going to marry him one day.”

Zayn punched him in the shoulder. Hard. “I’ve got dibs.”

“I hate you so much right now.” Louis rubbed his shoulder and pouted, trying to think of a “dibs” loophole.

Zayn shrugged, eyes growing hazy. It was his high-on-pot face. Louis was slightly disturbed. “His eyes are so brown and puppy-like.”

“I’d say they’re more kittenish meself.”

Zayn frowned. “What?”

“What what?”

“No, they’re puppy-like, definitely. I would know.” He jerked his thumb to the side and oh. He was talking about the buff guy who was currently stretching about ten metres away from them, strong muscles rippling beneath his skin. Louis could understand the appeal, he really could, but still. “Oh. I wasn’t talking about him.”

“Who _were_ you talking about then?” Zayn glanced around, eyes stopping at Tall Tanned and Curly with scary precision. They’d known each other too long, probably. “The instructor? Harry?”

“Harry,” Louis repeated, hoping there wasn’t drool. He inconspicuously patted his chin just to be sure. 

“I should have known,” Zayn commented with a snort, as the hippie music started to flow out of the speakers. What the fuck was Louis doing here? “You always go for the hipster types.”

“I do not! I despise them.”

Zayn arched his eyebrow and turned to face ahead right as Harry started to speak. And Christ, his voice. Deep and slow with a rough edge, like a round of amazing sex after a dry spell. And Louis had had a really long one. 

“Lick chocolate off of me and whisper dirty things in my ear,” Louis muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Hot hipster types with hard rock nipples were not going to distract Louis from being better at this than anyone here. This was going to be a piece of cake.

*******

Louis was fucking _sweating_ , and the muscles he’d never even thought he had were burning in protest.

“Okay, now bring your leg down on an exhale.”

Exhale? Louis was panting. Did that count?

Zayn didn’t seem to be struggling nearly as much, eyes constantly glued to the buff guy’s next-to-non-existent backside. This was unacceptable. Louis wanted to see Zayn sweat, just to know if he actually could. For science.

“Hold the pose for a couple more breaths; feel the energy flow through you.”

Louis was going to cry.

“Okay, now relax, guys, you’ve been doing really great so far.” Harry smiled; a wide, close-lipped stretch of his mouth that made his already ridiculous face seem even more ridiculous. Oh, and he also had _dimples_. Dimples and legs that just wouldn’t quit and abs that showed even through the loose fabric of his tee and if Louis wasn’t in so much pain, he’d probably regret not wearing any pants.

“Okay, let’s try something more advanced now. Do this only if you’re comfortable. Remember, focus only on you and not on the people around you. If it’s too much, you can keep your toes on the ground. That’s how I did it at first, too.” Then he squatted down, bent his elbows, propped his knees up on his upper arms and lifted his toes off the ground with exactly zero effort. He had a pert little bum that Louis wanted to squeeze and spank and yeah, maybe the pain wouldn’t be much of a problem.

It all went downhill after Harry started to weave through the crowd to offer words of encouragement and his voice whispered in Louis’ ear, “You’re doing really well for a beginner. Good… um, balance.”

Louis opened his mouth to say something dirty when Harry’s massive paw of a hand gently stroked down his spine. “Remember to keep your core tight, yeah?”

Louis toppled over.

Zayn snorted a laugh, the bastard. Louis was going to find a new best friend.

“Sorry!” Harry offered his hand to help him up. It just about dwarfed Louis’ one, soft, warm palm pressed against his in a way that definitely did not leave Louis a bit weak in the knees. God, he was willing to bet Harry’s hands smelled of some kind of exotic hand lotion. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I’ve been told my core is tight before, but not quite like this.”

Harry’s cheeks turned red and then, of all the things he could possibly do, he giggled. Louis was helplessly endeared and not even Zayn’s faux coughing fit was going to spoil this.

“I’m Louis, by the way.”

“I’m Harry.” He smiled. “Nice to meet you, Louis. Hope you’ll come around next week, too?”

Louis hummed an agreement in a way that was decidedly not smitten.

*******

Louis _loved_ yoga. He loved it so much he came again next week, as all yoga enthusiasts would. It was definitely not to ogle Harry while he bent and stretched and flexed while wearing illegally tight leggings, or to see his solid chest expand with every deep breath. While Louis was struggling to hold the poses, he definitely wasn’t daydreaming about sucking bruises into Harry’s hipbones. 

Who was he kidding? Everything about Harry was decadent, bordering on obscene, and Louis just wanted to wreck him then cuddle him close. He was a weak excuse of a man.

“You’re staring again,” Zayn whispered from his downward dog position. Louis was starting to get a crick in his neck from sneaking glances.

“Shut up. I’m watching the instructions, aren’t I?”

“Right. Okay.”

“You’re one to talk anyway, Zaynie. I can smell you pining all the way here.” It was entertaining, if not a little pathetic.

“He’s just really fit.”

Louis sighed. “I’m going to lock you two in a cupboard until you shag him and get it out of your system.”

“Would you?” Zayn didn’t really sound as if he was joking.

“Oh my god.”

Harry clapped his hands together after they went through the last set of movements. “All right, good work everyone! Now, we will slowly relax. Lie down and close your eyes. Empty your mind of all the stress and worries, yeah? Listen to your body and loosen all your muscles bit by bit.”

This part left Louis a bit uncomfortable. He didn’t like closing his eyes in a room full of strangers, lying on his back, vulnerable. He’d never been one for introspection either, never liked being left alone too long with only his thoughts for company.

He heard soft footfalls by his head before he could feel someone leaning over him. Recognising the smell as _Harry_ may have been a tad creepy. He smelled like thunderstorm and rain soaked earth and mangos, and Louis wanted to lick him all over to find out if he tasted the same.

Wordlessly, the pads of his fingers caressed Louis’ temples, massaged little circles into his skin, keeping the pressure light but firm. Louis could feel his stress leech out of his body as though he was a puppet in Harry’s hands. He was a wizard.

Louis reached out, flailed for a bit until he found the base of Harry’s skull and pulled him close enough to whisper, “Yer a wizard, Harry.”

Harry choked back a laugh, capable fingers massaging his earlobes and tracing the shell of his ears. And if Louis had quickly sniffed Harry’s curls when they’d been tickling his nose, nobody had to know.

*******

“Why don’t you ask him out?” Niall asked, popping crisps into his open, still chewing mouth. Disgusting.

“Because he’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and what if he says no?” Louis groaned, flopped down on the couch, planting his bare feet in Niall’s lap. It was a testament to their unbreakable bond that Niall didn’t shove Louis’ feet off, even though he hadn’t showered today.

“He won’t say no.”

“But how do you know?” Louis put a pillow over his face. It smelled vaguely of Doritos Zayn had spilled all over it earlier in his haste to keep them away from Louis’ greedy hands.

“Who could say no to you, Lou?” Niall shrugged as if it was a done deal. 

“Nah. That’s just you, to be honest.”

Niall snatched the pillow out of his hands and flung it behind his head. “Ask him out. What do you have to lose anyway?”

“How about my dignity?” Louis grumbled, kicking Niall in his thigh just to be a little shit. “Fine. But if he’s straight and says no, I’m blaming you for my heartbreak.”

“Nobody’s _that_ straight,” Niall said with a grin, patting his ankle.

“Do you know what, Niall? I might keep you.”

*******

The thing about Louis was, libraries weren’t a place he frequented often. If he needed a book, he’d go online and filch it off some dodgy website or Google Books, with the silent support of David Beckham’s arse squeezed into tiny grey Armani briefs taped to the wall of his bedroom. Alas, after an hour of fruitless search and a brewing headache, Louis closed his laptop and decided to brave the merciless environment that was the university library a few days before assignments were due.

“Zayn!”

Nothing.

“Zaaaaayn!”

“What!”

Louis pulled a beanie over his unwashed hair and zipped up his hoodie. He looked homeless and didn’t even care.

“Come to me!”

“Fuck off, Lou, I’m working on my portfolio!”

Louis grabbed a list of the topics he needed to research for his essay and peeked into Zayn’s room. Even with his hair in disarray and a black streak over his cheek, he still managed to look as if he dropped out of a _GQ_ editorial. 

“But what if I get lonely or scared? Who will protect me if a girl with fake nails tries to steal a book off me?” That was a valid question, seeing as it had happened the last time Louis had ventured into the library like a spooked woodland creature and scurried out even worse for wear. He’d had those scratches up his forearm for days.

“You know I would, but I really, really can’t. This painting is fucking me over.” Zayn rubbed a hand over his face, leaving more smudges of charcoal in its wake. It was starting to look like war paint.

“Do you want me to bring you something to eat?” Louis was a little shit, but he knew how to get serious if the situation was dire enough. His best friend dying of starvation counted as such.

“I don’t have time to ea—”

“Spring rolls, it is. Don’t think I won’t force feed you if I have to, because you know better.”

Zayn’s shoulders slumped, the corners of his mouth lifting up in a hint of a smile. “Cheers then. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He made a kissy face just in case the message hadn’t been loud and clear. “You should stop inhaling all the paint fumes. It’s making you awfully sentimental.”

Louis dodged a boot flying at his head and darted out of Zayn’s room.

*******

There were books everywhere and Louis’ ribs already ached from being bumped so much. Didn’t the student body understand that he was a delicate flower, only to be handled with utmost care? 

“Oi, move it, mate,” a girl hissed at him, eyes red with a lack of sleep, a cup of Starbucks clutched in her hand. 

_That’s not even real coffee_ , he wanted to yell just to spite her, but refrained. Partly because he was such a bloody good person, and partly because he didn’t want to have pretentious coffee dumped on his head. He ducked into an aisle on teaching instead, looking for a book on teaching special aid kids. He’d already gone through two aisles without finding what he needed. Maybe he should have stuck with Google Books. Fuck.

There was so much stress in the building that Louis felt it vibrate down to his toes. Even those who were gathered around tables radiated the kind of nervous, frantic energy that came right before emotional breakdown.

He slunk down to the floor and sat there with his forehead pressed against the metal frame of the bookshelf. He was going to fail and never graduate. He’d end up flipping burgers for the rest of his life, remembering the “good old days” as he washed the stink of cheeseburger grease out of his hair. Fuck, his head was pounding and he just wished Zayn or Niall were here so he could have a little manly cry.

“Louis?”

He turned his head to the side and the first thing he saw were legs. Legs and legs and more legs and oh… he was familiar with them. The crotch bulge too. In a “please let me suck you off” kind of way.

He felt emotional and flushed and could only stammer out, “Harry?” before he realised he looked like a _homeless person_ on verge of a mental breakdown, and. Harry looked as if he walked straight off the runway, in his tight jeans and a plaid shirt unbuttoned indecently low, a black jacket folded over his forearm.

“You all right?”

“I’m working on my cha,” Louis replied, not even knowing if his brain was still in his head anymore.

“Did you mean chi?”

“That too.”

Harry walked over and sat down next to him cross-legged, setting the jacket on his lap. Louis may have been jealous of it. “You look stressed.”

“I know, I’m hideous. Don’t look at me.”

“You’re not hideous,” Harry protested, and it would be almost amusing how genuinely offended he sounded, if Louis had the capacity to find anything amusing right now. The impending failure of one’s future would take the fun out of life, he reckoned. “You still look cute, if a bit tired.”

“My head hurts and I don’t think I can do this assignment. I’m going to fail.” Louis sighed into a row of books. “Be kind and kill me. Do it quick. Rather you than my mum.”

“You’re not going to fail,” Harry said, voice dropping to a soothing whisper. Then his hand joined in with the soothing, rubbing up and down Louis’ back. He just wanted to curl up in Harry’s lap and demand to be petted forever.

“You don’t know that. Unless you’re clairvoyant, in which case, fair enough.”

Harry chuckled and Louis wanted to bottle up the sound and keep it in his pocket for the times he was stressed out or sad. “I might be. You just don’t know.”

“Why are you here anyway? Do you go to the uni here?”

“Yeah. Law and business.”

Louis whistled, eyelids growing heavy under the big, sweeping strokes of Harry’s warm hand. “Can you be my sugar daddy? I’ll… well, I’d say I’d cook and clean for you, but I can’t do either for shit, so… wait. This isn’t your section though. That’s on a different floor, isn’t it?”

When he snuck a glance, Harry gave a sheepish shrug. “I, uh… I kind of went in here to see if there were any books on being a good teacher? For my yoga classes?”

“But you’re already the bestest! You don’t need any books.” Harry started scratching Louis’ back and he was basically purring like an oversized useless cat of a person. It was probably a good thing Zayn hadn’t come with. He already had enough blackmail fodder against Louis as it was. “Is that what you’d like to do then? The yoga thing? Permanently, I mean.”

“Maybe? I mean, law is okay, I guess. My mum is already helping pay for my tuition, so I can’t just, you know, give up on it. The yoga thing just helps pay for rent for now.”

“You should do what makes you happy though.” People like Harry should always be happy. Lovely, sweet, gentle people like Harry.

“It’s a bit bullshit that you’re supposed to know what you want to be for the rest of your life when you can barely afford to pay for your own food, isn’t it?”

“Tell me about it,” Louis answered, shuffling closer to Harry. His hip was pressed against Harry’s crossed legs and he just wanted to climb into his lap and nuzzle into his neck.

“You studying to be a teacher then?” His hand moved in circles up his back and over his hood, fingertips stilling as they grazed the nape of his neck. Louis shivered.

“Yeah. Wanted to do drama, at first, but… what are the chances of getting an acting job, you know? So this seemed like the second best choice. I like kids and I’ll get to order them around. What’s not to love?”

“You’ll make a really good teacher. Shit salary though.”

“Hey! That was cheeky.” 

“Might have to look into that sugar daddy option, after all.” Short fingernails scratched his nape. Louis wondered if moaning a little would be considered inappropriate.

“You offering?”

“If I ever get rich, ring me up.”

Louis pulled away, shifting around so he could sidle up next to Harry. Harry uncrossed his legs and stretched them out, shuffling close enough so they were flush from shoulders to hips. Trying to distract himself, Louis picked up Harry’s hand to inspect it closely. It was bigger than his. And so, so soft.

“You can do it, you know. Your assignment. I promise.”

And when Louis looked at him, he started to actually believe it. Because if Harry believed in him, what other choice did Louis have but to not disappoint him?

Louis wondered if Harry was an actual fairy instead of a wizard. “You’re something else, Harold.”

“In a good way?”

“The best way,” Louis confirmed with a squeeze of his hand.

*******

“So, is this like a thing?” Zayn blew the smoke out of the corner of his mouth, a spiral of grey Louis watched with a frown. It was starting to get cold out again and he still hadn’t managed to make Zayn quit. “You and Harry?”

“There is no _thing_.”

“It’s all right if there is, you know. You don’t really… date much. Or, at all.”

Louis folded his arms over his chest, the frown deepening. “So? I’m not into flings. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Zayn held out his hands in a placating gesture. “’Course not. I just… you like him. _Really_ like him. I can tell. So why don’t you just—”

“I don’t know how,” Louis admitted, giving a small shrug. “Anything I come up with seems lame and I just… don’t want him to say no. Because he’s kind of brilliant and I like talking to him. I don’t want to ruin it if he’s not interested at all.”

“Stop selling yourself short,” Zayn said gruffly, as if personally offended.

“Maybe I could coax him into it? Like, ask if he’d like to have a walk with me. He won’t even know that he’s kind of on a date.”

“You don’t need to con him into dating you, Lou, for fuck’s sake. He was totally making googly eyes at you earlier. Thought I’d heave.”

“Really?” Louis unfolded his arms and perched his bum on the edge of the rickety old table on their tiny balcony. It would probably collapse one of these days. Louis always sat on it anyway.

“Yes, really.” Zayn took a long drag, eyes falling half shut as the smoke flooded his lungs. He might as well have been having an orgasm. Honestly. There were children around. And by children, Louis meant mostly Niall.

“Fine, I’ll do it. But only if you ask the buff guy out.”

Zayn choked. Louis may or may not have snickered as he patted Zayn’s back in mock remorse. “Not as easy as it seems, eh?”

“I can’t!”

“Well, you’re going to have to. My happiness depends on it,” Louis said with his most non-threatening smile. 

“I like that yoga class,” Zayn whined, as if he’d already been rejected and ostracised.

Just in that moment, the door to the balcony cracked open and Niall hopped in with a grin, snapback sitting precariously on his blond head. “Let’s get pints!”

Never let it be said that Niall didn’t have impeccable timing.

*******

Louis was the master of all things romance. He was doting and appreciative and willing to do freaky things under the sheets. Too bad he couldn’t capitalize on any of those qualities prior to asking someone out and put them to good use right away. 

The last time he’d had a proper long-term relationship, it’d been with Hannah and she’d been more of a mate, really, so it probably didn’t even count. It wasn’t Louis’ fault anyway. Men were dicks. The kind of dicks that pretended to be really into him only to kick him out of bed the morning after with a “thanks for a good night, I have stuff to do now, so…”. After the fourth time, Louis had sort of given up.

Then there was Harry. Harry who stood at the front of the gym, all flexible and cute and smiling. On a scale of one to ten, how unacceptable would it be to tell him “I like the way you bend”? 

So, naturally, when the class ended, Louis and his superb romancing skills walked over to Harry who was putting his hippie CD mix into its case. He was going to date this boy. He was going to date him _hard_.

Despite all the lines and scenarios he’d run over in his head in the last hour, the first thing to come out of his mouth was, “So, have you ever tried to suck yourself off?”

Harry fell on his bum with a high-pitched squeak and flailing limbs, his eyes wide, mouth falling open.

_What the fuck is wrong with you, you idiot?_ The voice in his head sounded suspiciously like Zayn.

Louis chuckled uncomfortably as Harry blinked at him, red flooding his face at an alarming rate. Well, there was no way Harry would say no to that date thing now. Louis kind of wanted to crawl into the nearest ditch and have angry library girls pour Starbucks over his head as Niall sang a drunk, dramatic rendition of Spanish flamenco. He deserved the worst.

“Because of, you know… the whole yoga thing. Makes you think, doesn’t it?” Louis obviously wasn’t. Thinking, that was. He shot a desperate glance in Zayn’s direction, but he seemed to be stammering through a sentence with a concerned looking buff guy as the unfortunate receptor. No wonder they were dateless. “The flexibility! And, like, is that even possible?”

“I… uh, I don’t know? Maybe? I think.” Harry stumbled to his feet and wow, yeah, he was definitely flustered and taken aback. Just the way Louis had wanted him. Not. “Why… um, why do you ask? Have _you?_ ”

“’Course I have. What man hasn’t, to be honest? I’m just not bendy enough.”

“You’re plenty bendy,” Harry argued and okay, he was still talking to Louis. That had to be a good sign, right? Unless he was too polite to tell Louis to bugger off.

“I’m sorry!” Louis blurted out, and this was all just going really, really badly. “I’m an idiot and I just wanted to ask you something, but then my brain happened, or _didn’t_ happen, as it were—”

Harry’s hand gently gripped Louis’ elbow, and his brain turned into fog. “What is it? What did you want to ask me? Should I go fetch Kamasutra? I think there’s even a 3D version online.”

Louis resisted the urge to hide his face in Harry’s shoulder. “How about you bring that to our third date? Or tenth. I’ve no idea what is acceptable.”

Harry stepped closer, his bare toes an inch away from bumping into Louis’. He had really nice toes, Louis noticed. “Are you—”

“Trying and failing to ask you out? Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Louis’ head snapped up. “Okay?”

A soft smile broke out on Harry’s face; a smile that Louis wanted to draw and make a centerpiece of his Harry altar, but. First, he wasn’t a psycho. Second, he couldn’t draw anything but stick figures.

“Give me your number then.”

Louis hurried to pull his phone out of his bag before Harry could change his mind. He didn’t. After they exchanged numbers, Louis swore he could hear a heavenly choir. He just might turn religious.

If _that_ hadn’t scared Harry off, nothing would, Louis was sure. He rose up on his tippy toes, steadying himself on Harry’s solid shoulder and pressing a kiss right into his dimple. “I’m really looking forward to it. I promise we’ll have fun.”

“Don’t doubt it for a second,” Harry said. “Never a dull moment with you, is there?”

“Nope.” Louis gave him one last longing glance then dragged what seemed to be a traumatised Zayn out of the gym.

*******

“Why would you do that?” Louis asked, barely heard through Niall’s raucous laughter.

Zayn made an unintelligible noise and buried his face in Louis’ lap. “I’m bloody done for.”

“Hahaha, Zayn! Running!”

“Niall, this is a crisis!” Louis punched him in the shoulder, but Niall kept laughing with his head thrown back, spilling Heineken down the front of his vest.

As it turned out, the buff guy was named Liam and he was a fitness enthusiast who often ran marathons for good causes. Being his idiot self, Zayn had said he loved running too, so Liam had asked him to join him on the next half-marathon. Zayn had agreed. Needless to say, the farthest Zayn had run was from a parking lot to a newsagent’s that was about to close, just so he could buy a pack of Marlboros. Zayn didn’t run. He hovered and occasionally leaned against things and avoided any strenuous activity beside sex at all cost.

“I really don’t want to be the one telling you this, but you are fucked.” Louis rubbed Zayn’s back. Niall had rolled off the couch and was now lying beneath the coffee table with his shins still up on the couch cushions, giving exactly zero fucks. Louis was living with lunatics.

“What am I gonna do? I can’t tell him I lied!”

“Well, you’ve got exactly a week to start practicing running. Better quit smoking while you’re ahead.”

“I can stop smoking any time I want.”

“I know.” That was Zayn’s favourite argument, right after “I only smoke a couple a day” and “my grandpa has been smoking all his life and he’s 75 now”. 

“I just wanted to have something in common with him.”

“I know.”

Niall laughed so hard he bonked his head on the bottom of the coffee table.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who left a kudos or a comment, you are the best of the best! And a big thank you to Cara aka mystardustmelody for being a great beta!

Louis had thought the date would go well. If he’d had to stage a prognosis, on a scale of ‘bloody brilliant’ to ‘utter shit’, he’d have picked the first choice in a heartbeat. Surely, nothing could go wrong with the way he’d planned every second; something he’d never really bothered to do before. A bit ironic, that, since it was turning out _awful_ instead.

The restaurant Louis had planned on taking Harry had closed due to renovations the day before; something he found out once he parked the car in the lot. He wasn’t even wearing his lucky shirt because bloody Niall had borrowed it without asking and spilled garlic sauce on it—also without telling him— so Louis had had to pick a different one. One that didn’t look like it had a come stain on it. 

When they’d decided to get some food by the cinema before the film started, his GPS had fucked up midway there, so Louis got lost and so were all his hopes of impressing Harry with a nice date.

“This is awful. I’m sorry,” he said, parking the car by the side of an empty road so he could slump against the steering wheel. Even his quiff was starting to wilt.

“Hey, ‘s not so bad.”

“You don’t have to lie to me. We’re both hungry and we didn’t get to see the movie and now we’re lost in some bloody suburb that frankly, I’ve no idea how to get out of.” He refused to look at Harry, would rather dip his face in a tank full of piranhas than see the disappointment on Harry’s face. “If you want to call a cab and go home, I’ll pay for it. No hard feelings, yeah?”

A hand fell on his shoulder. Louis tried to tell himself it didn’t feel like ‘goodbye, thanks for nothing’.

“Don’t be dumb. How about we get tacos? I think I saw a place that was open a couple streets back.”

“Tacos?” Louis repeated dumbly. Why was Harry still even here?

“Yeah, come on. It’s nice out, we can walk there.”

And that’s how Louis found himself walking beneath the dark London sky with a chicken taco in his hand and Harry’s shoulder bumping against his. “This is actually pretty good.”

Harry grinned, a smear of sauce on his chin. It was painfully adorable.

“Thanks for not giving up on me, even though I’ve failed on every level.”

“I don’t care about what place we go or what we do, Lou. I just… I just wanted to spend time with you, that’s all.”

And that was… the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him. Louis looked down on his shoes and tried not to swoon like an overdramatic Harlequin romance heroine. “That’s all I want too. I feel a bit stupid now. I had this perfect idea of a perfect date and… yeah. I just wanted to treat you nice.”

“You are though.” Harry lifted the taco to the sky as if it was an Olympic gold medal. “You bought me this!”

Louis snorted, chewed the last bit of his food before crumpling up the wrapper and throwing it in a nearby bin. “Not very high maintenance, are you?”

“Well, if you could get me some cubed fruit, you’d earn a hefty amount of plus points, not gonna lie. Super duper points if there’s bananas or mandarin segments involved.”

“Super duper points, you say? I am very competitive. I might hijack a plane and fly all the way to Honduras to get you some bloody bananas now, I hope you realise that.”

“Would you bring me a monkey as well? I like ‘em.”

“Of course. We’ll name it Dog.”

“Or Margaret!”

“Margaret Dog, it is.” He really tried not to watch Harry eat, but it was all just a tad too fascinating. Fuck, his _jaw_. Harry chewed, but all Louis imagined was closing his mouth over that smooth, smooth skin stretched over sharp bone, blunt teeth sinking in, bruising _mine_ into Harry’s flesh. When he swallowed, Louis imagined licking a stripe up Harry’s arched throat, hands tangled in the back of his hair. “You’ve got,” Louis slowed down, licked his lips, “a bit… there.”

“Hmm?”

Louis pulled him to a stop, cupped the back of Harry’s neck –to keep him in place, _okay_ —and wiped the drop of sauce off his chin. Harry blinked, eyes dead set on Louis as he brought the thumb into his mouth and sucked the sauce off. “Mmm… spicy.”

“Wow, um. Thanks.” Harry finished his food, his reddened cheeks dimpling as his knuckles grazed Louis’ wrist. And because Louis was still mentally stuck at the age of six, he wanted to hold Harry’s hand so much it made his own shake. The moment before he made a decision, his pulse stuttered, but he told himself not be a pansy and nudged his fingers in between Harry’s. 

They fit perfectly.

“I have an idea,” Louis said, tightening his grip. Harry’s warm palm fitted to his in way that made Louis feel as if he was the kite and Harry the string. It made him feel as though he could do anything. As though he could fall in love as easy as taking a breath.

He tugged at his hand and sped up until they were both running and laughing breathlessly, feet pounding against the pavement, moonlight reflected in Harry’s bright eyes. Louis liked the way they crinkled at the edges when he smiled so wide.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere fun!”

They’d passed a small park for children on their way down to get food and now that Louis rounded the corner and ran right through the grass with Harry beside him, he couldn’t help but think that this was better. Right here among the swings with chains going rusty and a creaking roundabout and Harry nuzzling the back of his neck as they came to a stop, quick inhales stretching their lungs.

“Want to go swing for a bit?” Louis asked. “I’ll push you.”

“Yeah, okay.” Harry lifted their joined hands to his mouth, pressed a lingering kiss to Louis’ knuckles before letting go. “I haven’t been on one in ages.”

“Well then, Harold. Prepare to have fun the likes of which you’ve never had before.”

“Show me what you’ve got.”

“A daring man,” Louis said, nodding seriously. “A gentleman after my own heart.” And maybe if Louis were drunk he’d let it slip that it was Harry’s already. Fuck doing things half arsed, he might as well plunge right in.

“That’s my middle name.” 

_A daring man or a man after my heart,_ Louis wanted to ask but didn’t, wiping his palms on his thighs.

Harry planted his bum on the swing with enough vigour to almost topple backwards. Luckily, Louis stood right behind him with a steadying hand on the centre of his back. “This is getting life threatening already.”

“Sorry, I’m, uh… a bit clumsy. Sometimes.” He wrapped his hands around the chains and tilted his head back, smiling sweetly like the devil he was. “Push me, please?”

Louis wanted to push him against the monkey bars and climb him like one, but refrained. Maybe later. “As you wish, Harold. Buckle up.”

He pushed him as hard as he could until Harry was clinging to the chains for dear life, giggling like a five-year-old on his favourite rollercoaster ride instead of sitting on a plank of plastic. Louis wanted to make him laugh like that every day for the rest of his life.

“To the stars and back. Come on, Lou, race me!”

And that’s how Louis found himself on a swing next to Harry, seeing who could swing higher without falling to their death. The night turned a bit chilly, only a handful of stars shining through the veil of the city smog, but Louis would remember this moment forever as something extraordinary. 

He’d remember how they both swung to a stop and Harry intertwined his legs with his to bring him close, both of them grinning so hard it almost hurt. He’d remember how he stumbled up to his feet to stand between Harry’s spread thighs and laid his palm over his thundering heart. And the one thing he’d never, ever, forget was that Harry smelled like mangos and fresh aftershave as Louis leaned in, their noses bumping and rubbing against each other as if saying hello, right before their lips brushed and slotted with so much _want_ it made Louis’ knees feel like water.

There were long fingers spanning his hips, the tips edging beneath Louis’ button-up shirt to touch feverish skin and he just couldn’t get close enough. Couldn’t get enough of Harry and the way his lips opened against his with a whimper, the way he let him in to taste the roof of his mouth and the tip of his tongue, his eyelashes fluttering against Louis’ cheeks like butterfly wings.

Kissing him shouldn’t have felt this good, like a habit they’d eased back into after years of practice. Louis shouldn’t be on the verge of collapsing just because Harry met the teasing strokes of his tongue with his own, suckling at it softly like it was hard candy.

“Mmm, Lou,” Harry breathed into Louis’ mouth, hands pulling him impossibly closer, every rub of their lips sending sparks of electricity down Louis’ arched spine. Louis felt as if he could catch on fire any time now.

Harry’s hair was fluffy and thick and Louis couldn’t help but pull at it, get Harry to tilt his head back so he could deepen the kiss even more, his hips grinding against Harry’s on autopilot. He was done for. Could keep doing this until the lack of oxygen made him lightheaded and his lips were numb.

He was nibbling on Harry’s bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth, when Harry’s hands cupped his bum and squeezed. Louis jumped and jerked forward and then they were falling, flailing to get a hold of the chains to keep themselves upright.

“Ow, fuck,” Harry huffed with a laugh from his back on the dusty ground with Louis on top, their tangled limbs askew. “You all right?”

“You broke my fall. I should be asking you.” Louis couldn’t help it. His lips couldn’t keep away from Harry now that he’d had a taste. He liked the sounds Harry made when Louis sank his teeth into the curve of his neck. “Maybe I should kiss it better, yeah?”

“Y-yeah, please.”

_Please._ Bloody hell, Louis really needed to have this boy naked, sprawled on his bed and whimpering that same word, with Louis kissing his way down his body so slowly they’d both get dizzy with need.

Harry tasted so good--minty fresh from the gum he’d been chewing, lips soft and sweet from his cherry chapstick. It felt as if they’d been snogging on the dirty ground for hours before Louis found himself being rolled onto his back on a more grassy bit, Harry kissing down his throat and nibbling on his collarbones, stars winking down at them.

“Mmm… Harry.”

“Can I?” Harry asked, a smile in his voice as he circled the top button on the waistband of Louis’ jeans. 

“Fuck yeah. Please.” And even though it was a bit nippy, Harry’s hands left brushes of fire in their wake as he unzipped Louis’ skinny jeans, one deft hand sneaking in to curve around Louis’ length. 

“H-harry.” If he wasn’t so lost in every touch of Harry’s hands and the sudden warmth of his breath over Louis’ clothed cock, he would have been mortified at the sounds he was making, at those needy, desperate mewls and the tremor in his thighs.

“Can I suck you off? Will you let me?”

Would Louis _let_ him? 

Louis just blinked up at Harry’s flushed face, stared at those lips swollen from kissing him and nodded dumbly.

Harry was a tease and Louis was going to get back at him somehow (once he regained the use of his everything). His hands clenched helplessly at the ground as Harry yanked his jeans down under his bum and mouthed over him, planting little kisses on his cock through his pants until the fabric turned damp.

Somewhere in the back of his head--that little bit that still received just enough blood supply to function--he thought he heard a noise. But Harry’s fingers were hooked in his pants to tug them down his hips and he was rubbing his puffy lips over the tip, his tongue flicking out to tease the underside, and Louis could barely think anything besides _yesfuckyesmoreHarryHarryHarry_. When his fist closed around him in a tight grip and his lips finally pursed around the tip and sank down, down, down, Louis may have torn some grass out of the ground.

It didn’t hit him until it literally hit him. _Why is the sun up_ , he wondered, because his brain had just about regressed to running on basic functions only.

“Pack it up, gents. I hope you realise you’re committing indecent exposure on a public ground. Literally.”

A pair of stern-faced police officers was hovering over them, flashlights illuminating their indecent activity in all its glory. Louis and Harry both scrambled up to get away from one another. Or they would have, if the fate hadn’t conspired against them for the hundredth time.

As Harry tried to stuff Louis inside his pants and Louis tried to zip up his jeans, Harry’s hair got somehow caught in a zipper.

“Ow, fuck, _fuck_ —”

“I’m sorry, shit—”

“And they’re swearing in front of us, too. I’m going to enjoy fining them. So much.”

“Are they stuck?” the policewoman asked, bending over at the waist to get a closer look. “I think, they’re stuck, John.”

The John in question snorted, then began to laugh so hard he almost dropped his flashlight. “And to think I wanted to trade my shifts with Phil tonight! I reckon we should bring them to a holding cell just like this!”

Harry’s eyes started watering and his nose was nudging Louis’ balls through the fabric and Louis was still so fucking hard he actually wanted to cry. Whether it was from the sexual frustration or embarrassment, he wasn’t sure.

“We didn’t, I…” Harry winced as Louis tried to extricate Harry’s hair from the teeth of the zipper. “We’re sorry. We didn’t mean to, I promise. Please, just—”

“Are we going to spend all night here or are we going to sort this out?” the woman asked, her voice breaking on a poorly suppressed laugh. Louis’ life was a travesty. A fucking travesty.

“I can’t get it out,” Louis said, shaking hands working Harry’s hair out strand by strand, careful not to hurt him.

“Well, you didn’t seem to have a problem with that earlier, did you?” The woman sighed, and then there was an extra set of hands working to free Harry. Louis would never be able to look at Harry ever again. He’d have to move out of London, probably fly over to South Africa and live among wildlife.

It took about a minute until Harry was able to finally pull back, more or less unscathed. There were a few ripped out strands still trapped in Louis’ zipper. Moving to South Africa suddenly didn’t sound a big enough measure. Pluto sounded much more acceptable.

The woman, Susan, took on the role of the bad guy as she explained to them why what they’d done was a criminal offence that would have to be fined. John was too busy holding onto the swing set and trying not to choke laughing.

“This was our first date,” Harry said, near tears. “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. It was my idea. If anyone should be punished—”

“Don’t listen to him! It was my fault. I wanted to come here in the first place and I kissed him and then… it got of out of hand—”

John slapped his knees. “Out of hand!”

Susan rolled her eyes and held up her palm to stop Louis from talking. He had never shut up quicker in his life. He briefly remembered that time in elementary school when he’d accidentally broken the head teacher’s favourite vase. Only he hadn’t got caught with his cock out then, so… _slightly_ different.

“Listen. I have had a long night and I’m tired and I have two kids waiting at home for me, so,” she exhaled, more than done with them both, “get out of my sight. If I ever catch you around here again I will put you both in jail before you can blink. Not only that, I will personally have you call your parents and make you explain to them why you’re in. Is that clear?”

“Oh _god_ , thank you—”

“Thank you so much, we’re—”

She brought her finger up and pointed behind them. “Go away before I change my mind.”

Needless to say, they ran as fast as they could.

*******

“Are you actually still hard?” Harry asked in disbelief once they settled into the car, panting as if they’d just narrowly escaped police. Hah.

“Not completely,” he protested. “I can’t help it! Your mouth… it does things. Permanent things. I think it’s some kind of yoga voodoo.”

Harry turned red, his mouth twitching. Before Louis could comprehend what was happening, Harry was clutching at the dashboard, laughing like a maniac.

Well. At least he wasn’t running away from Louis and hailing a cab. Yet.

“Is your hair okay?”

“Oh God.”

“Are you okay?” Louis was doing his best not to join in, but he lost it completely when Harry snorted like a pig and looked almost startled by it.

They were a pair of lunatics, parked in the middle of nowhere with grass blades and dust in their hair and ugly laughing so much Louis’s face was starting to go numb. He couldn’t even make a noise anymore, so he just sat there wheezing, trying not to crack a rib.

Once they’d quieted down somewhat, Louis asked, “So, on a scale from one to ten, with ten being ‘yes’ and one being ‘fuck no’, how much do you want to repeat this date thing with me?”

It was audacious and frankly a little bit of wishful thinking on Louis’ part, but Louis was nothing if not daring. Now only if he could tell that to his sweaty palms and the insistent tick in his left eyelid, then that would be wicked.

As it turned out, his erection was only willing to flag in the face of imminent rejection. Go figure.

“I would say,” Harry started, tapping his chin and stretching out his long legs, taking his sweet time as he settled more comfortably into the seat. “That maybe next time we should just watch a film and eat dinner at my place.”

“Your place?” Wait. What? Harry was actually saying yes?

“Or yours. I don’t mind?” Harry looked earnest, his mouth the colour of ripe raspberries, so when Louis lunged to kiss him until they could both barely breathe, he couldn’t exactly be blamed.

“Mind?” he breathed into Harry’s mouth, petting the little springy curls by his ears in a silent apology for earlier. “Are you fucking with me? Didn’t think you’d say yes—”

“Well, you did confirm you don’t do ‘dull’. I knew what I was getting myself into, didn’t I?”

“Oh, did you?” Louis hid his grin behind Harry’s ear, kissing him there just because every time he did, Harry would make this raspy little sound in the back of his throat that made Louis infinitely proud. “Knew you’d be getting caught going down on me in the middle of a playground, huh?”

“Of course. It has been my plan all along.”

“You conned me into taking you there, didn’t you? Probably managed to close down that restaurant and messed up my GPS somehow.”

Harry nodded, hand sliding into Louis’ hair to scratch at his scalp. It was a bit embarrassing that they barely knew each other, yet Harry had already picked up on Louis’ weak spots. 

“My evil schemes know no bounds. I will stop at nothing.”

Louis kissed his way over Harry’s jaw to his other ear, suckling at the sensitive earlobe and the spot right behind that made Harry slump into him like a rag doll.

“Can I keep you?”

“Yeah. All right.” Harry said, a dopey smile on his face.

*******

When Louis waltzed back into the flat, he did it literally. Closed the door behind him and danced into the living room because his feet felt so light he just might have been the first person in history to fly. 

He’d dropped Harry off at his flat, kissing his buttery soft mouth for about twenty minutes until their lips turned raw and Louis thought he’d have a permanent boner from the slow swivel of Harry’s hips against his. 

“How was it?” Niall’s head popped up from behind the back of the couch, hair dishevelled, sleepy eyes blinking rapidly.

“Niall,” Louis sighed, slid over to the couch where the still-napping Zayn seemed to have been spooning Niall. Nothing new there. 

Louis pulled Niall up and twirled him around. “It was splendid. We almost got arrested. I think I’m going to marry him one day. He’d look amazing bearing my babies.” Louis imagined a house full of little children pitter-pattering around, all curly haired little angels with big green eyes and button noses. Even as young as he was, he wanted at least five of them. Fuck.

Niall spun Louis into his arms and dipped him low. “What the fuck did you do to almost get jailed?”

“Eh… public indecency?”

Niall lost his balance and the ruckus they made as they tumbled down was enough to wake Zayn up. A pillow landed on Louis’ face.

“Wicked!” Niall laughed into his chest.

“Trying to sleep here,” Zayn grumbled, his hair down, wearing the Marvel T-shirt with a big hole on the right shoulder he’d stolen from Louis ages ago. Louis knew this clearly meant a crisis, since Louis could swear most days Zayn woke up with his quiff perfectly intact. They may have been housing an alien. Louis was strangely okay with that.

“Welcome to the land of the living, Zaynie,” Louis half-yelled through the pillow. Niall pushed it off his face, bless his little Irish heart. “How’s it shaking?”

Zayn’s bottom lip jutted out in a pout. “Come cuddle me?”

Once Louis struggled up to his feet, he waited exactly zero seconds before diving on top of Zayn, shortly followed by Niall. They were all huffing, elbows being planted in ribs and knees knocking together as they rearranged their limbs to fit around each other. One would have thought having a narrow sofa would deter them from having group cuddle sessions, but it never did.

“How was your date?” Zayn asked, his freakishly long eyelashes tickling Louis’ cheek. Louis’ weight was pressing him into the sofa cushions, but Louis knew he’d never complain.

“He’s going to marry Harry,” Niall piped in, smushed against the back of the sofa with his arm and leg thrown over them both. “I’m calling dibs on being the best man.”

“ _I’m_ the best man,” Zayn protested, indignant.

“Hey now,” Louis soothed, nosing at the top of Zayn’s hair. He smelled like expensive cologne and smoke. “The best man will be chosen in a battle to death. The last one standing wins, obviously.”

Zayn wriggled one of his arms free for the sole purpose of pinching Louis’ side. Rude.

“Ow, fuck. Fine. Rock, paper, scissors then?”

“Okay,” Niall said.

“All right.” Zayn managed to give a small shrug. “That good then, eh?”

Louis buried his face against Zayn’s temple and grinned. “Maybe.”

“Aww, Lou! You’re blushing!” Niall laughed his belly-deep, open-mouthed laugh. Louis imagined that if they were all animals, Niall would make a great hyena.

“Am not! It’s all the body heat. You two wankers are at fault here.” 

“Nah,” Zayn said, “That would be Harry’s perky bum.”

“How _dare_ you look at his bum!” Louis bit Zayn’s cheek until he was swatted away. “Also, no.” It wasn’t just the bum. It was the soft curls and the ridiculous bark of a laugh. The way his lips curled around each word so carefully. How he smelled and tasted and managed to see the best in everything. Even a helpless case like Louis. Yeah.

Zayn arched his eyebrow, looked at Louis as though he could read his mind as easily as if it was one of those pretentious poetry volumes resting lovingly on his nightstand, with dog-eared pages and hand-written notes scribbled in the margins.

“We had tacos!” Louis blurted out, fiddling with the hole on Zayn’s shoulder, further stretching it out. “It was nice.”

“You didn’t happen to bring some, did you?” Niall asked, lifting his head to look at Louis with the hope of a five-year-old in the middle of _Toys ‘R Us_.

“Sorry, Nialler,” Louis said, bopping Niall on the nose when his expression slumped into disappointment. 

They lay there in silence, save for the muted hum of the telly and the distant echo of voices of the neighbours from above. Sometimes it really sucked to live in a flat with paper walls.

“Zayn?”

“Hm?”

“What’s wrong, babe?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Zayn mumbled, almost childishly.

“Is that why you’re wearing my old tee?”

“It’s mine now and I like it. It’s comfy.”

Louis kissed him between his scrunched eyebrows. “Of course it’s yours.”

“I can’t do it, Lou,” Zayn admitted on a burdened exhale. “I tried to go running today and it was bloody awful.”

“He ran hundred meters and almost coughed out a lung,” Niall supplied, helpful as always.

“Just admit it to him then? It’s not like he won’t find out eventually,” Louis said. “Kind of hard to overlook you doubling over a few meters in.”

“Can’t I just sneak off at the start and pretend I ran it?”

Louis combed Zayn’s fringe out of his eyes. “Don’t think so. Sorry, love.”

Zayn sighed.

*******

Louis was definitely not eavesdropping. That was a foul practice of old church ladies and nosy six-year-olds. 

“Louis?”

Okay, maybe he was. A little bit. “Shh,” he told Harry, covering his lush lips with his hand. God, those lips. Louis needed to make sure they tasted as nice as he remembered. “Stop it, Harold, I’m observing and you’re too pretty. It’s distracting.”

Harry chuckled into Louis’ palm then licked. If he thought Louis would be repulsed, he had another thing coming. “What are we observing?”

“Zayn and his future beau.”

“Beau?” Harry’s eyes danced with mirth. “Do people even say that anymore?” His fingers circled Louis’ wrist, holding his hand to him as he kissed all over Louis’ palm. If it had been anyone else, Louis would have recoiled at the intimacy, but it was _Harry._ Somehow, even though they barely knew each other, it made all the difference.

“Uh huh.”

Buff Guy was frowning. Louis wasn’t sure if it was because he was horrified at Zayn’s confession of being a couch potato, or if it was his default expression. If they ever got together, Louis wasn’t sure he was prepared for that kind of joint brooding.

Buff Guy was touching Zayn; squeezing his shoulder and—Harry was suckling on the sensitive skin of Louis’ wrist, Jesus _Christ._

“Harr—”

“Your skin is so soft, did you know?”

“This is torture,” Louis whimpered. “I’m calling the police.”

Harry met his eyes with an impish smile. “Are you sure you want to, after the last time?”

Louis was assaulted with images. Harry’s red lips stretched around his girth, the wet, hot heat of his mouth pulling him in like a lollipop, fingers pressing indents into his thighs.

Harry let go of his hand, smirking. “So, about that second date—”

“Yes.” Sod the eavesdropping. Zayn would tell him about it later. “Tonight?”

“Okay,” Harry said. “I’ll cook?”

He could cook, too. Louis was definitely going to marry him.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moral of the story: keep your hair away from zippers, kids. (Just so you know, comments give me life.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the lovely Cara aka stardustmelody. Any mistake you see is due to my own stupidity.
> 
> A massive, massive thank you (oh god Louis Tomlinson is a bad influence) to everyone who's left a kudos or a comment!!

_‘I think about sex every sex words.’_ Louis snickered to himself as he mouthed the words from the print on the wall, hand poised to thumb through Harry’s extensive collection of vinyls and books, which took up the entirety of the wall shelf unit. Some of the sleeves and covers were more worn than others. 

Louis definitely did not want to sit down in one of the plush armchairs or sprawl on the sofa with too many throw pillows just so he could listen to the music Harry loved most as he skimmed the books Harry had read more than once. He did not. Because that would be obsessive. 

Instead, he absentmindedly ran his fingertips over the edge of the shelf, eye skimming another poster on his way to the window. _‘It’s such a beautiful day in London. I might just go to the park and stare at my iPhone.’_

A wooden cat figurine stared at him from the windowsill with a smug expression, as if it knew how hopelessly endeared Louis was by everything _Harry_. The cat seemed to be one of many strewn around the living room. They varied in sizes and colours and facial expressions, but they all looked hand-made.

“You know nothing,” Louis muttered as he picked the Smug Cat up, turning it around in his hand. The dim shine coming from the fairy lights hung on the curtain rod bounced off the cat’s black painted back.

“Dinner’s almost ready!” Harry called from the kitchen. He’d chased Louis out after he’d attempted to help ten minutes ago. He may or may not have almost dumped a heap of salt where it didn’t belong. “Hope you’re not getting bored in there!”

Louis put Smug Cat back in its rightful place and wandered into the kitchen with his hands clasped harmlessly behind his back. One of these days Louis would sit Harry down on the old wooden table pushed against the yellow wall, right on top of the tablecloth with daises on it, and make him come so hard he’d remember it every time he’d eat breakfast there. “I’m not doing anything. I’m just going to stand here and admire you.”

Harry glanced at him over his shoulder, dimple in his cheek and a silky floral headscarf tied in his hair. “Good. You’re banned from handling cutlery or condiments. Or the food in general, actually.”

“Does that mean you’ll feed me?”

Harry adjusted his pink apron—it had cupcakes on it too, for fuck’s sake, Louis was _doomed_ —and shrugged. “If that’s the sacrifice I have to make, I’ll do it.”

Louis padded over to him, the slippers Harry had lent him a little big on his bare feet. “It smells _really_ good. Can you cook for me for ever and ever?”

“You haven’t even tasted it yet. Might be awful.”

“I don’t have to taste it,” Louis said, winding his arms around Harry’s waist from behind and propping his chin up on his shoulder. Maybe he sniffed him a little. Whatever. It wasn’t creepy _at all._ “I can already tell I’m going to love it.”

Harry dipped his head, hiding a smile, but Louis saw it anyway. Saw it and felt the almost unbearable fondness for this boy press down on his lungs. “Harry?”

“Hm?” He poured a cup of white wine over the prawns, watched it simmer. Louis watched Harry.

“Did you make those cat figurines?”

“Oh.” He smiled sheepishly as he stirred. “Maybe? I’m quite good with my hands.” He stroked down Louis’ forearm in a very apt demonstration. “Always been good at wood tech.”

Good with his hands, huh? Louis would have to test that theory. “Are you a crazy cat lady then?”

“I am. I’ve got a cat back home in Cheshire. Wish I could take her with me, but my mum won’t let me.” As if Louis wasn’t completely smitten already, Harry pouted. “I suppose that’s all right. Wouldn’t want her to get lonely while I’m at uni or work. The cat, I mean.”

Louis wanted to say he’d get Harry all the cats in the universe if it made him happy, but bit his tongue. “I’m more of a dog person myself.”

Harry gasped. “But… kittens! With their swishy tails and cute little pillowy paws!”

“Do you know what?” Louis bit the back of Harry’s neck, felt him shiver and slump into his arms. “I’ve changed my mind. I think I’m actually more of a Harry person.”

Harry set the wooden spoon down before turning around in Louis’ arms to nose at his temple, lips brushing the sharp edge of his cheekbone. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. The Harrys are always quirky and always wonderful. And they have curly hair.” He tugged at a springy curl tumbling over Harry’s cute little ear. “No contest.”

“Lou—”

“I like your headscarf. It’s very pretty.” Louis chewed on his bottom lip, wondering if he was coming on too strong, too obvious, if every time Harry looked at him he saw stars in Louis’ eyes and the longing to fill pages upon pages with soliloquies about the nuance of Harry’s lips and the matching fate lines on their palms.

“ _You’re_ pretty.”

Louis squirmed, fingers twisting around the bow of the apron at the small of Harry’s back. “Not _pretty._ Handsome. Rugged. Manly.”

“That too, but,” he kissed the corner of Louis’ mouth, “also pretty. The prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re a sap. Absolutely horrible,” Louis said, fondness twisting his mouth into a smile. “I think I’m gonna need you to kiss me right now to make up for it.”

“Ah, I see.” Harry heaved a put-upon sigh. “Reckon I’ll have to take my punishment like a man.”

“The only way to do it, really.” The pretence of nonchalance would have worked better if his voice didn’t sound wrecked already, hands pressing into Harry’s back to bring him flush against his body, the points of contact igniting bursts of heat all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes. 

When Harry finally kissed him, a slow, wet slide of their lips and strong hands holding him close, Louis rose on his tiptoes and backed him against the kitchen counter, tasted the cupid bow of Harry’s lips and swallowed down his helpless whimpers.

It was almost too much, this overwhelming need to have all of Harry, to taste him slowly and thoroughly for hours and _hours._

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

“Harry—” He dragged in a breath, mouth falling to Harry’s arched throat, physically unable to keep himself from kissing the frantic beat of Harry’s heart pulsing beneath his lips.

“Shit, the timer. The spaghetti… will get overcooked.” Harry’s voice had dropped even lower, raspy and morbid in a way that tempted Louis to ask Harry to read him naughty poetry in bed.

“Spaghetti?”

“Uh-huh.”

Louis was half-hard, their hips moving together in a slow, dirty grind. Each place Harry had branded with his fingertips was on fire and if he didn’t move away, their dinner would eventually be too. But he just _couldn’t._ Not with the magnetic pull of Harry’s palms sliding up the dip of his spine, his teeth pulling at Louis’ lower lip as if he wanted to eat him alive.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

“Ugh.” Louis dropped his forehead against Harry’s shoulder, barely stopping himself from humping Harry as if he was fourteen and out of control again. “Food. Eating.”

“Food,” Harry agreed, cupping Louis’ bum and squeezing. Fuck.

“This. Later.” Apparently he’d been reduced to barely intelligible monosyllabic responses. Then he looked at Harry, headscarf askew and looking half shagged out, and thought, _well, duh._

Louis deserved a medal in restraint for pulling away. He really did.

He wasn’t sure he’d survive seeing Harry eat. 

*******

Louis had to have done something terrible in his past life to deserve this kind of torture. Harry kept sticking his tongue out before putting food in his mouth, that nimble tongue licking all the sauce off the fork, the tendons in his hand shifting with every move of his ridiculously attractive hand. 

At one point, he’d accidentally smeared a bit of sauce on his chin, so he’d wiped it off with his thumb and sucked it slowly into his mouth. His cheeks had hollowed out in the same way they had when he’d been sinking down on Louis’ cock, with just a hint of that demonic dimple. 

Louis shoved the surprisingly delicious food into his mouth to muffle his moan. Kind, hot, funny and a great cook. Louis didn’t stand a chance.

“ _Harry._ ”

“Hm?”

Louis spread his legs out a bit wider to get more breathing room, so to speak. “You’ve got to be doing that on purpose.”

Harry paused with the fork halfway to his open mouth. “Doing what?”

“That thing you do when you eat.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed.

“It’s like watching porn. Your tongue,” Louis swallowed hard, rubbed the back of his neck. He was starting to sweat a little. “It’s terribly unfair.”

“What tongue thing?” Harry’s frown melted into a knowing smirk as he very deliberately licked all around that damn fork. He was pretty much on the verge of fellating it right in front of a very sexually frustrated Louis. “This thing?”

He whimpered. “You’re the worst.”

Harry just grinned and Louis adjusted himself beneath the table. Getting a permanent boner was starting to become a habit whenever Harry was within eyesight.

*******

“Why would you pick this?” Harry’s choice of movies was absolutely awful and Louis would most definitely not cry on a second date. He would _not._

“It’s a good film! Not as good as _The Notebook_ , obviously, but still,” Harry argued, their thighs pressed together. The heat of it almost distracted Louis from what he’d thought would be a harmless, romantic chick flick. 

“May as well have picked bloody Bambi,” he muttered, furiously blinking back tears as _A Walk to Remember_ came to a close.

“What was that, Lou?” Harry’s lips ghosted over the shell of his ear, his arm solid and warm over Louis’ tense shoulders. For a moment Louis considered some kind of conspiracy, in which Zayn had divulged all of Louis’ dirty secrets to Harry, including Louis’ penchant for crying over sad films.

“N-nothing.” He sniffed.

The couch dipped a little when Harry twisted around in his seat. Louis could see him staring from the corner of his eye. 

“Are you crying?”

Louis grimaced and hugged a purple throw pillow to his chest, tugging the sleeve of his oversized grey jumper over his knuckles to inconspicuously wipe under his eyes. “No?”

“Lou—”

“I’m _not_ crying,” he protested, voice breaking embarrassingly on the last syllable. “My eyes are just… sweaty. It’s a rare condition. You wouldn’t understand.”

Harry pulled him tighter against his side, pressing a lingering kiss to his temple. “It’s all right. I cried too when I watched it the first time.”

Louis swatted him away, mouth dropping open. “Then why would you make me watch this with you? What have I done to deserve this?”

Harry’s cheeks turned pink, one clumsy hand adjusting his headscarf. Louis thought the vague shadow of guilt in Harry’s sheepish smile was well justified. “Um… I thought, maybe you’d want me to cuddle you after?”

Louis blinked at him. Harry blinked back, squirming. Louis started beating Harry up with the throw pillow. “You’re a sadist!”

“I’m sorry!” Harry toppled on his back with a giggle, arms coming up to shield himself from Louis’ vicious attack. He _should_ have been worried. Louis hadn’t won the _Champion Pillow Fighter_ title over both Niall and Zayn for nothing. Well, Zayn had refused to participate, but that was his fault, not Louis’. “’M so sorry!”

“Are you, Harold? Are you, really?” He hit Harry’s torso twice in a row, sneaking another hit to the side of his curly head.

“Ahh… not really?”

The answer stunned Louis motionless long enough for Harry to grab his wrist and pull him on top of his body. The impact of falling down chest-to-chest with Harry almost knocked the breath out of Louis’ lungs, Harry’s strong thighs trapping him in place. The pillow fell to the floor, forgotten.

“You’re mean,” Louis complained breathlessly, going cross-eyed at the close proximity of Harry’s unfairly stunning face. His headscarf had mostly slipped all the way off and his hair had gone static-y. Even though Harry was a conniving little shit, Louis really wanted to kiss him.

“Kind of brilliant though, wasn’t it?”

“No,” Louis said, trying not to notice the thunder of Harry’s heart cozied up right against his, the snug fit of their hips. “I’m only letting you get away with this because you’re cute.”

Harry beamed. Louis had to blink repeatedly because the sight of it overwhelmed him. Just a bit. “You think I’m cute?”

“Obviously,” Louis scoffed, mouth tilted into a smile against his will. “Wouldn’t have accepted the second date offer if you weren’t.”

“Actually, it was you wh—”

“Semantics.” Louis ground into Harry, smirked when Harry’s thighs spasmed against his hips, eyelashes fluttering against his rosy cheeks.

“Louis,” he said simply. It didn’t seem as though he meant to follow it up with anything but that excruciatingly gentle slide of his hands down Louis’ spine.

“I might kiss you. Right now,” Louis blurted out, arching into Harry’s touch.

The hand on his back paused for a second before Harry resumed stroking, rubbing down Louis’ sides, slowly rucking up his sweater and T-shirt to his waist as he went back up. “I might like it. Like, really.”

“Okay. Okay,” Louis said, nudging his nose against Harry’s, pecking Harry’s lips twice, lingering on the third when Harry cupped the back of his neck to pull him in. He tasted like dark chocolate and wine, heady and sweet, his lips so plush and warm Louis wanted to fall asleep tasting them every night.

Harry’s tongue nudged Louis’ parted lips, slipped right past to meet the tip of his tongue in a slick, dirty slide, complete with whimpers and Harry’s fingers edging beneath the waistband of his pants to dig into the curve of his bum.

“Lou,” Harry exhaled into his open mouth, surging back in to claim another kiss, hips bucking up to drive Louis mad. The fabric of his clothes was turning itchy on his too sensitive skin, every slide of Harry’s hands down his back and over his sides like wildfire. Like too much and yet not nearly enough.

Louis straddled Harry’s leg, his thigh pressed firmly between Harry’s as he wriggled his hips from side to side, growing embarrassingly hard in his restricting jeans. Or it would have been embarrassing, if Harry hadn’t been suffering from same predicament, his breath hitching when Louis nibbled on his upper lip, curious hands seeking warm smooth skin beneath Harry’s T-shirt. 

As soon as he fitted his fingers in the dents of Harry’s ribs, slid up until his thumbs were grazing the hard peaks of Harry’s nipples, he shivered and keened low in his throat, the upward grind of hips stuttering for a beat.

“Love… kissing you,” Louis whispered, nipping at Harry’s cherry lips, soothing the burn with his tongue. “Your taste.”

“Yeah, yes.” Harry’s voice was rough and deep, made for filthy words and hours of pleasure. “Love it.”

Louis rubbed against Harry in a dirty figure eight, the friction so good he was struggling to breathe. He kissed the corner of Harry’s mouth, heading straight for the little spot behind Harry’s ear that would make him undulate against Louis more insistently and press into his hands in supplication, the spot that turned him into a whimpering mess.

“You like this?” Louis asked, suckling at the skin there, teeth grazing, fingernail of his index finger catching on a sensitive nipple.

“Yeah, Lou, _please._ ” His hands snuck into Louis’ jeans again, cupping his bum to pull him impossibly closer.

“What else… do you like?”

“This? Anything you do to me.” Harry huffed out a laugh. “Also… blowjobs?”

“Cheeky.” Louis bit down on the spot under his jaw, sucking on it long enough to make it bruise the next day, to brand a memory of his lips into Harry’s flesh. “Giving or taking?”

“Both.” 

When Louis pulled back, Harry’s pupils were blown enough to edge the green almost entirely out, lips red and swollen, cheeks flushed as if he’d been fucked already. “Look at you. You’re so…”

Harry stretched his arms over his head, arched his back. Louis had to grip Harry’s sides just to ground himself, to keep himself from coming undone.

“So… what?” Harry’s eyelids turned heavy, his tongue licking out to dampen his heart-shaped lips. It took Louis a moment to comprehend that Harry was real. Real and all his to kiss and touch.

“Beautiful.” Louis’ cheeks burned as he dropped Harry’s gaze, pushing his T-shirt up to his armpits instead. Harry huffed and wriggled beneath Louis as he took it the rest of the way off, turned pliant and trusting when he settled down again. 

“Um… I have… I have four nipples.” Harry’s cheeks dimpled and… oh. Yes, yes he did. “Think I might have absorbed my twin in the womb.” 

Louis grinned, his hands travelling over Harry’s smooth torso. The firm muscles of his chest yielded under the pressure of Louis’ touch, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as soon as Louis gave his nipples a pinch. “Does that mean they’re twice as sensitive?”

“Don’t know. Maybe you should try— ah, _yes._ ”

Louis shuffled down to perch lower on Harry’s legs as he bent down to lick at all four peaks in turn, smiling against taut skin when Harry buried one hand in his hair to hold him in place. He worked the stiff flesh with his teeth, scraping and nibbling and pulling at them enough to turn Harry desperate, to have him curl into Louis.

“Like this, don’t you?”

“Please, Lou, _touch_ me. Want to… _please._ ”

“I _am_ touching you.” He sucked one puffy nipple into his mouth to demonstrate.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat as he pulled him up to kiss him, sinking his teeth into Louis’ bottom lip with enough force to border on pain. Louis’ jeans got even more uncomfortably tight.

“Christ.” Louis pecked his lips one more time before pushing him back against the cushions again, trailing wet kisses down his chest and quivering stomach until he reached the little trail of fine hair disappearing into his tight jeans.

He undid the top button and lowered Harry’s zipper with trembling hands, fighting the urge to palm himself at the sight of Harry spread out beneath him with a look in his eyes begging Louis to devour him. With a few forceful tugs, the jeans were stripped down to Harry’s thighs and pulled entirely off, and Louis’ hand cupped Harry’s hard cock through his black briefs.

“Well,” Louis said, licking his lips, thumb brushing over the wet spot. “You’ve got a big dick.”

“It’s… bigger up close.” 

Louis let out a startled laugh. “Shut up.”

Harry thrust his hips up, an impish gleam in his glassy eyes. “It’s true, I swear.”

Louis bit his hipbone, suckling until Harry mewled and let his legs drop even further apart. “Let’s see it then. If we’re conducting a serious experiment, I’m going to need all the parameters.”

“You can use your tongue as a r-ruler.”

“Excellent idea, Harold.” He rolled Harry’s pants down just enough to free his cock and yes. How much of a slag would Louis be if he started to salivate? When he rubbed the slick tip over his parted lips and Harry’s hand clenched around the armrest over his head, he decided he didn’t much care. He licked out to have a taste, his thumbs rubbing circles into the sharp V-line of Harry’s hips. “You taste nice.”

Harry lifted his head, eyes flickering between Louis’ lips and eyes. “Huh?”

“You taste nice,” Louis repeated, swirling his tongue around the flushed head. “Kind of sweet?”

“Oh.” Harry swallowed hard, hips shifting restlessly, unable to keep still. Considering Louis was kitten-licking all over Harry’s length like the awful tease he was, he couldn’t blame him. “I’ve got… uh, fruits. Lots of fruits in my d-diet. Christ, _please._ ”

“Please what?”

He pushed Louis’ hair away from his flushed face, his thumb stroking the edge of Louis’ cheekbone. “Stop teasing?”

“You don’t sound very sure,” Louis said, suckling softly at the leaking head. When Harry started babbling a continuous stream of _pleasepleaseLouisplease_ , he finally relented and sank down until his lips met his fist squeezed tight around the base. Harry’s head fell back against the cushions with an obscene moan, muscles of his abdomen spasming. Louis was enjoying this far more than he probably should have been. 

He loved the throbbing weight of Harry on his tongue, the little shivers that raced over his skin when Louis took him in deep, the desperate mewling sounds Harry couldn’t hold back, his tightening grip on Louis’ hair. Seeing Harry unravel thread by thread under the twists of his hand and the heat of his mouth was definitely worth the ache in his jaw.

Louis reached down to palm himself through his jeans, eyes slipping shut as he got lost in Harry’s every sound, the way he smelled like a summer thunderstorm. Louis wanted to drink him down like earth drank down the rain.

“ _Fuck_ , you’re… really good at t-this.”

Had Louis’ mouth not been occupied, he might have said _I’ve never wanted to please anyone the way I want to please you._ Probably a good thing it _was_ occupied. Nobody liked a sappy blowjob. Then again, Harry seemed like the rare type that would.

Harry was panting now, his head thrown back, canting his hips towards Louis’ mouth when he scratched his way up Harry’s inner thighs.

“Lou, Lou… so close.”

Louis hummed and redoubled his efforts, squeezing Harry’s cock in pulsing beats, his tongue curling around the head.

It took Louis a few seconds too long to realize the “Oh my God!” was too high-pitched and decidedly too horrified to be Harry’s pre-orgasmic cry. Harry, on the other hand, reacted more quickly. His hips snapped up in alarm and his cock hit the back of Louis’ throat. He gagged, panicking as he hastily pulled off.

“Oh my God!”

“Mum!” Harry pulled his pants back up faster than Louis could blink, a pained expression on his face. 

Louis felt all the blood rush to his face as he scrambled off Harry and fell to the floor on his bum, right on top of Harry’s discarded jeans, which Harry was currently trying to pick up. They struggled for a bit until Louis managed to roll off to the side. Would they notice if he crawled under the couch and didn’t emerge until someone invented flying cars?

“Mum, what are you—”

“Nice one, H,” said a second female voice, just in case the higher power hadn’t shit all over Louis already. Did Harry’s entire family turn up? Would his grandparents pop in too, by any chance? Louis really wanted to bury his flaming face in the sofa cushions. Instead he opted to stare at the floor and wish his boner would go the fuck away.

“Oh. My. God.”

“You’re not supposed to be here until Thursday!” Louis caught Harry yanking his jeans on from the corner of his eye, silently grateful he hadn’t had a chance to shuck off his own clothes. He feared the moment someone acknowledged his presence was imminent.

“It _is_ Thursday, dumbass,” the younger female voice said with the undertones of a barely suppressed laugh. At least _someone_ was finding this amusing.

“No, it’s not.” A beat. “Oh.”

Louis would kill Harry in his sleep. Well, unless his mother got there first.

The moment of awkward silence dragged on until Harry’s mother cleared her throat loudly and said, “So, who is this… young man?” Her voice seemed to have climbed several octaves.

On a scale of “appropriate response” to “bloody insane”, how good of an idea would it have been to jump out of the window and run?

Harry coaxed Louis up from the floor to sit next to him as he fumbled out, “Louis is… He’s a… umm…”

Louis took pity on him. “Boyfriend. I’m his… yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck and tried not to notice Harry hadn’t got quite completely soft yet either.

“So this is Louis!” The girl sounded delighted. If Louis’ wasn’t dying of embarrassment he’d have wheedled her for more information. “You were right. He is fit.”

“Gemma,” Harry groaned, dropped his face in his hands. “Shut up.”

“You’ll have to excuse my brother. He has no manners.” 

Louis finally dragged courage from somewhere deep in his gut and looked up just as the girl toed her shoes off and smiled at him widely. She was practically the female version of Harry, looks-wise. “I’m Gemma. And this is our mum, but you can call her Anne.”

Once Louis regained his bearings, he’d congratulate Harry on the excellent genes that ran in his family.

“Hi, I’m the fit Louis.” He’d shake their hands, but. Considering where his hands had been a couple minutes ago, it didn’t seem like a good idea. He offered a small wave and an attempt at a smile instead. It probably came off more like a grimace.

“I’m Anne.” The expression on her face said her entire life was still flashing before her eyes. “And I’ll just… go. Leave you two to… I’ll just go. Get a glass of wine.”

“I know how you feel,” Louis muttered and got an elbow in the side from Harry.

“I’ve got a bottle in the fridge,” Harry said, standing up with a strategically placed throw pillow. “So you two can just—”

“Bugger off to the kitchen?” Gemma said with a not-so-subtle wink.

“Language,” Anne said wearily and gave Louis a weak smile on her way to the kitchen. “It was… nice meeting you, Louis.”

Once they both disappeared in the kitchen, Gemma’s laugh trailing after them, Louis punched Harry in the thigh.

“Ow!”

“What the fuck, Harold!” he whisper-shouted. How much blushing could one do before his head exploded? Because Louis might have had reached his limit just now. “How does one forget their mum’s coming to visit? I had your…I had your cock in my _mouth._ ”

“I didn’t know it was Thursday! Thought it was Wednesday still.” He pouted, flopping back against the backrest with a tortured sigh. “I’m sorry. You don’t know how sorry I am. That was—”

“Embarrassing? Horrifying? Frustrating?”

“All of the above,” Harry said, lashes fluttering when he accidentally pressed his hand down on the pillow in his lap too hard. Louis felt a bit debauched for wanting to jump Harry again, even though his family was just one room over. “Plus, my sister won’t let me hear the end of this.”

If they ever got married, Louis hoped this wouldn’t make it into her wedding speech. “I should probably go.”

“I don’t want you to—”

“I know. But it’s for the best.” Louis leaned in for a chaste kiss, sneaking a-not-so-chaste grope of Harry’s cock beneath the cushion. “I’m going to spank you for this next time.”

Harry whined into his mouth, his hair an utter mess, skin flushed all the way down to his chest. “I’m gonna need a cold shower. Or ten.”

“Good. At least I won’t be suffering alone.”

After one last kiss and a hurried goodbye to Harry’s family, Louis ducked out of the flat as fast as possible. He definitely did not park by the side of the road halfway home to finish himself off. He would _never._

*******

When Louis finally returned to the flat, completely composed and inconspicuous, he found Niall half-lying on the sofa with Zayn sprawled over him.

“You, Nialler, are the gayest straight lad I know,” Louis said as he took off his jacket and put it on the hanger by the door, toeing off his Vans. “We must be rubbing off on you. Well, metaphorically speaking.”

“Yup.” Niall grinned from his mountain of empty fast food containers and Zayn worship.

“I’m going to convert him yet,” Zayn said, lazily petting Niall’s stomach.

“Well, we do have that deal,” Niall said, nodding to himself. And wait. What?

“What deal?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Lou?” Zayn said, his perfect specimen of an eyebrow mockingly raised. Louis wasn’t here to be mocked. Or denied knowing everything. That simply wouldn’t do.

“What deal?” he whined, sitting down next to their feet and staring beseechingly. One of them was bound to break.

Niall did. It was always Niall. “If we’re both thirty-five and single, we’ll shack up together,” Niall said with a shrug, as if he wasn’t discussing their future romantic entanglement. 

“Well, Zayn, you better become fucking rich because feeding this one won’t be cheap.”

“I’m still growing,” Niall protested, reaching out to grab another chip. “Can’t help it.”

“He’s a skinny little thing anyway, aren’t you, babe?” Zayn said, letting Niall feed him. Disgusting.

“Hey! What about me? Am I not good enough for either of you twats to make a deal with?”

“You’re going to marry Harry,” Niall said, eyes fluttering shut at Zayn’s touch. _Seriously._ “I ain’t no husband-stealing cunt.”

“You can be our best man,” Zayn added.

“I better be,” Louis said with a huff, lifting Zayn’s feet to put them in his lap. He wondered how the Liam thing had gone. Rather that than think of Harry in a dapper tux, with sunlight in his hair and a dimple in his cheek as he proved his Louis-worship via incredibly sappy wedding vows. Fuck.

“I think he’s straight.” Zayn’s voice jolted Louis out of his thoughts. “Liam.”

Had Louis asked that out loud? No, no he had not. Sometimes he wondered if Zayn could read minds. Louis was 70% sure Zayn was secretly an alien, so… “What?”

“I asked him out for coffee and stuff and we met up today and he… I don’t know. Just a vibe I got off him, I guess? He insisted to pay for himself and he didn’t even flirt with me. Probably thought it was a friend thing.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s straight. Maybe he’s just shy,” Louis offered, even though Liam didn’t seem to be the shy type. “Or really oblivious.”

“Could be,” Zayn allowed, not sounding convinced.

“Well, you’ve still got Nialler.”

Niall mussed up Zayn’s hair, a chip sticking halfway out of his grinning mouth. “Mate, I’m a right catch.”

“You have dried ketchup on your chin,” Louis pointed out, arching his eyebrow. 

When Zayn licked his thumb and rubbed it off, Louis just good-naturedly rolled his eyes, wondering what even was his life.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will people ever stop interrupting them pre-coitus? Tune in next time to find out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Cara aka stardustmelody for editing and everyone reading! Much love and strength to you all, because I can't be the only one solely unprepared for keeping up with the tour. Pray for me.

Louis should have really stopped coming to Harry’s yoga sessions, because seeing him stretch and bend and slip into the teaching mode— so competent and sure of himself— was a double-edged sword. And Louis would have very much liked to impale him. Would have very much liked to peel Harry’s yoga pants down to his thighs and bend him over the edge of his bed, bite the back of his neck and count each vertebra with his lips before dropping to his knees and worshipped him so deeply and thoroughly they’d both be incoherent with lust. And now Louis was sweating from both the exertion and the heat slinking through his veins.

He should have really stopped coming here.

Harry caught his gaze from across the room, licking out to wet his sinful mouth. The echo of his taste still lingered on Louis’ tongue. It was better than candy. 

Yeah, he’d be here next week too.

“How much until the end?” Louis whispered to Zayn, who was thankfully oblivious to the tension shivering through Louis’ bones, to the particles of electricity flowing through the air every time his and Harry’s eyes met.

“Shh,” Zayn whispered back, lifting his arms to the ceiling on the inhale. “You’re ruining my vibe, man.”

Louis sighed and watched Harry’s muscles ripple beneath tan skin and black fabric as he moved into the warrior position, counting the minutes in his head until he could touch him again.

*******

“Come around to mine today,” Louis said, his thumb stroking circles into the silky bend of Harry’s elbow as the last straggler picked up her things and walked out of the dimly lit gym.

“Are you propositioning me?” The dimpled grin reached his eyes and made them fucking _sparkle_. And _Louis_ was the reason. It was he who made Harry smile like this, with infinite galaxies reflected in his irises. He wanted to do it for the rest of his life, maybe. “I’ll have you know I’m an honest man, Louis Tomlinson. I’m not giving up my virtue that easily.”

Louis shuffled in close enough for their socked toes to bump, tilted his head back just a little. “Oh, no worries. I intend to work for it. I’ve got the whole wooing plan down. There are even bullet points.” 

“I think you’re forgetting I heard you talk to Zayn on the phone yesterday. You said writing a _grocery list_ is for the weak.” Harry wriggled his toes against Louis’, looked down and smiled. “You and bullet points? Nah.” 

“I’m being misjudged. It _hurts,_ ” he said with an extra flare of drama, tickling Harry’s side. Harry twitched away with a squeal and pointed a wary finger at him. “Do not.”

Merely the innocent bystander that he was, Louis just smiled. “Are you ticklish, babe?”

“Not at all.” 

“Liar. Come back here then,” Louis said fondly. “Not going to tickle you again, I promise.”

“If you’re lying, I’ll… I’ll lock you up in a room with Celine Dion on repeat.”

Louis gasped and pulled Harry in by his waist. “Evil.”

“Sometimes.” Harry nuzzled Louis’ cheek, strong arms wrapping around Louis’ shoulders. “But most of the time I just want to be good.”

“You are.” He rose on his tiptoes the tiniest bit to plant lingering kisses down the shell of Harry’s ear, rested his lips against the spot right behind Harry’s earlobe. “You’re my good boy.”

Louis loved the warm weight of him, the way Harry leaned into him and curled around his body so there wasn’t an inch of space to spare. The way they fit as though they were two different parts of the same whole. Maybe if Louis kept holding him long enough, their heartbeats would sync up.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” Louis asked, pressed his lips against Harry’ earlobe, grazing the soft flesh with his teeth. His hand dipped beneath Harry’s T-shirt to caress the smooth curve of his lower back. “Yes, you are my good boy?”

“ _Yes._ Fuck, of course. And,” he rubbed his cheek against Louis’ like a cat, “I’ll come around to yours today.”

“Excellent news,” Louis said, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Harry?”

“Hmm?”

Louis rested his chin on Harry’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around Harry’s middle to hold him tighter. “We won’t be alone though? Like, Niall and Zayn will be there, so… I don’t know. I thought it might be fun. Do you mind?”

“No, Lou, that’s fine.” His softly spoken words tickled Louis’ temple, and he was so _tall_. So tall and beautiful and big-hearted and smelled like spring. It made Louis want to roll on his back and say _please_. For what exactly, he wasn’t sure.

He pulled away, fiddling with the hem of Harry’s T-shirt, dropping his gaze to watch his hands instead of Harry’s eyes.

“Are you sure? Like, if you’d rather be alone, we can do that too. You can tell me.”

“Lou,” Harry’s hand covered his, ceased his nervous fidgeting. “I’d love to hang out with all of you. We’ll have fun. Oodles of it!”

The tension Louis hadn’t been aware of dropped off his shoulders when he heard the sincerity in Harry’s voice. He lifted his head, fingers edging beneath Harry’s loose T-shirt, slotting them in the dents of his ribs. He couldn’t help but smile. “Oodles? Okay, now you’re just putting pressure on me.”

“Idiot.” The kiss pressed into his lips said _I just want to be wherever you are._

*******

The lads got on well. Really well. Perhaps, _too_ well.

After two hours of playing a FIFA tournament Louis had decidedly let Zayn win, abundance of pizza, two six packs of beers and easy banter, Harry’s head was burrowed into Niall’s neck, a blissed out expression on his sleepy face as Niall scratched his scalp. It turned out drinking and eating tuckered Harry out. Louis resisted the urge to dive on top of him and suck bruises in the shape of ‘mine’ into Harry’s skin right then and there.

“Have you quite finished, boys?”

Niall grinned, unaffected by Louis’ death glare. Probably for the best. Louis knew he was being dumb and the petulant frown on his face would only make him wrinkle before his years, but he couldn’t _help_ it. 

“Can we keep him?” Niall asked. “I’ve always wanted a cat.”

Harry purred.

Definitely not pouting, Louis wriggled himself in between Harry and the armrest, squeezing Harry’s thigh. The second Louis touched him, he shifted away from Niall and fit himself around Louis like a human koala. Louis’ mood improved tremendously. Fascinating, that.

Niall just rolled his eyes, as Harry remained thankfully oblivious.

“You know I love your cuddles the best, Lou,” Harry mumbled into his neck and yeah. Okay. Maybe not oblivious after all.

“I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, you were,” Harry said, pressing his smug grin into Louis’ jaw. “It’s kind of hot.”

“You two are so cute,” Niall said, watching them with a smile. Louis had always suspected Niall was a secret voyeur.

“Don’t encourage them,” Zayn said as he emerged from his room with a USB in his hand. “We’re watching _The Avengers_. If _anyone_ ,” he shot a pointed look in Louis’ direction, “runs an annoying commentary, they will be banished to their room.”

“It’s not like we haven’t seen it before. Five times,” Louis pointed out, carding his fingers through Harry’s curls. “I still prefer Spiderman.”

“I like Cat Woman,” Harry said without a trace of sarcasm.

“You would.” Louis was _not_ helplessly in love with him already. That painful tug in his chest was probably just heartburn from all the pizza. 

“Cat Woman?” Zayn asked with a disappointed shake of his head. “We’re going to have to educate you, H.”

“Hey,” Harry drawled in his honeyed voice, one hand petting at Louis’ stomach when he said, “Cat Woman is a perfectly valid life choice.”

Zayn just sighed and tweaked Harry’s nose once he squeezed himself in between him and Niall. The space on the small sofa was limited and their limbs ended up in an inevitable tangle to the point where it was hard to tell which limb belonged to whom. Louis wouldn’t have had it any other way.

*******

Their flat had turned into a virtual war zone, and no matter what Zayn said, it was not Louis’ fault. He may have started throwing popcorn, but it was Niall who had thrown the first banana. The residual mushy bits of it were still stuck in Harry’s hair. All right. Maybe Louis had gotten a bit vengeful after that.

“Louis, duck!” Harry yelled, eyes wild and curls even wilder. By the time his warning worked its way into Louis’ brain, a viciously thrown pillow was hitting his face, followed by a victorious Irish war cry.

“I got you, you English fucker!” Niall always turned twice as Irish when he got involved in a fight of any kind. They no longer took him to bars that had pool cues.

“Bloody leprech—shit.” Louis dived behind the couch just as Zayn pulled out a water gun from God knew where and started shooting anyone within vicinity with a wicked laugh worthy of the Joker. 

“Where the hell did you get that!” Harry’s distressed call was followed by an unmistakable sound of sputtering. Zayn had hit his mark. 

While pelting each other with fruit only Zayn ever bothered to eat, he must have taken advantage of the distraction and disappeared to load up on ammunition. Louis couldn’t believe none of them had noticed him slink off.

“I’m coming, Harry!” He rolled out from behind the couch and blocked a squirt of cold water with a stray pillow. “Haha, you missed!”

He jumped to his feet and ran straight for Harry, grabbing his damp hand and pulling him away from the line of cross fire. “We need weapons!”

He thrust the usurped pillow into Harry’s free hand and snatched a flying stuffed sheep right out of the air. He vaguely recalled one of the twins having left it at his place the last time they’d visited. “Your aim sucks, Nialler!”

“Nice catch.” Harry grinned widely, a little web of crinkles creasing the corners of his eyes. How inappropriate would it have been to drop to one knee right now and freestyle a sonnet about all the ways he wanted to make Harry smile?

“Lou—” Harry twisted them around before Louis could blink, his face scrunched up as the water hit the back of his head.

Had Harry just taken a hit for him? Yes. Yes, he had. Bollocks. That heartburn was back again. 

“My hero.” Louis swooned against Harry dramatically to cover up the heat stirring in his blood, ignoring Zayn and Niall’s exaggerated sounds of gagging. 

“Anytime.” When Harry’s lips nudged his, opened and slotted together in a slow, sweet kiss, the heat sparked into a fire.

“Cut it out, you two. No fraternizing with the enemy. Every man for himself,” Niall boomed and pelted them with pillows and dirty socks.

When freezing water hit Louis’ lower back and trickled into his pants, he jumped and accidentally bit down on Harry’s lower lip.

“Ngh,” Harry breathed out, cheeks flushing red. That had sounded suspiciously like a moan of pleasure rather than pain. Or was it pleasure from the pain? Louis would very much like to investigate.

“I’m out of water,” Zayn said with a sigh.

“Snack break?” Louis offered, doing his best to pretend he wasn’t out of breath and about to tent his pants. Niall cheered and dropped the dirty underwear on the floor. He had smudges of dirt on his face from the broken flowerpot beneath the window. Christ. Louis was not looking forward to cleaning up.

Wet, and with various bits of food and flour in their hair, they sat down and ate in the wreckage of the living room. Zayn was the only who had managed to come out of it unscathed, his quiff perfectly intact.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't try this at home, peeps.


	5. Chapter 5

He couldn’t believe he’d fallen asleep in class. Couldn’t believe the professor had caught him and made him stand up to berate him in front of everyone in the big lecture hall for over five minutes. His cheeks still burned even now as he sat in the corner of the cafeteria with his beanie pulled deep over his eyes, hunching over a paper cup filled with bitter tea.

He’d _drooled_ on his textbook and, according to his classmate, talked in his sleep. Talked _Harry_ related things. Maybe even moaned a little. Louis’ life was one big joke.

His phone beeped.

When he swiped the screen to read the message, he briefly considered drowning himself in his tea. 

_‘Heard you got lectured today. Hahaha get it? Lectured.’_

Niall was studying music production. How the fuck did he know already? Louis dialled his number.

“How the fuck—” Louis started, lowering his voice when his whiny outburst caught the attention of a prissy-looking passerby.

“Mate, news travels fast in this joint,” Niall said, a faint sound of drums and bass in the background. “Told you to go to bed yesterday, didn’t I?

“Not like I enjoyed staying up all night to finish my reading for his bloody class, Nialler. And do you know what he said? Do you?”

“I reckon you’ll tell m—”

“He said, ‘if you don’t care about your education and spend your nights partying, you might as well get out of my class.’ Like, fuck. Fucking _shit_ , Niall. It’s not like I was having fun. His class isn’t even the only one I have to study for. I have a bloody part-time job too. There’s just not enough hours in a day.” He inhaled deeply, told himself not to start hyperventilating. “I even blew off Harry yesterday so I could study, and this is what I get. Why do I even bother?”

“So you can graduate and become a teacher?”

“Stop making sense. I’m upset.”

Niall cooed at him as if he was a skittish puppy stranded on the side of the road. “Stop by the studio in the JM building. I’ll give you cuddles.”

Cuddles sounded so, so nice right now. Only, “Can’t. I’ve got a seminar in ten minutes. You know, two hours of my classmates trying not to stare at me and whisper about my failure as a human being. Not to mention, my very favourite lecturer will be there. It’ll be _fun._ ”

Niall didn’t sound particularly bothered when he said, “Good luck then, Tommo. You can do it.” Then again, he rarely did. His tolerance for bullshit in general was incredibly high.

Louis rested his cheek on the tabletop and glared at a pair of giggling girls striding by. “I hate everything and everyone.”

“That’s all right,” Niall said. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” He hung up and picked himself up, cradling the warm tea to his chest. Which turned to be a massive, massive mistake.

He felt the scalding liquid splash onto his chest and soak through his T-shirt before he could even take two steps.

“Oh my God, I am so—”

“Are you fucking serious?” He pinched the front of his T-shirt to pull the fabric away from his chest, wincing as the hot tea dripped down his skin, the cup in his hand pretty much emptied out. He’d barely managed to take two sips. “Fucking brilliant. Cheers, love.”

“I’m so, so sorry, I—” She started to dab at his chest and stomach with a paper napkin she must have pulled out of her bag. He decided to ignore the stricken look in her over-made blue eyes when he swatted her away.

“Just fucking leave it and watch where you’re going next time,” he snapped out. He may have regretted being so short with her if it hadn’t been a shit day already. As it was, he just wanted to get to the class so he could suffer through it and go home. 

He made to go past her when she grabbed his elbow. “Wait, I… I didn’t mean to. I just, I honestly didn’t see you. Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

He shook her off. “Not unless you’ve got a spare T-shirt on you, no.” He scrunched up the empty cup and tossed it in the bin, determined to just hurry away from this disaster of a person before she’d accidentally somehow rip his trousers as well.

“Wait!” she called again, falling into step beside him. “Let me at least buy you a new cuppa? I feel really bad.”

“Listen, love,” he sent her a scathing look from the corner of his eye. “If I don’t get to my class soon, my prof will skin me alive. And just so you know, I like cock, so how about you just hop away.”

“Oh.” She shrugged. “Good for you? So do I. And just so you know, I wasn’t hitting on you. Just trying to be a decent human being after ruining your morning. _Sorry._ ”

The last word dripped with biting sarcasm, and Louis would not get flustered over his assumptions. He would not.

“I do have a spare top by the way. It’s just…” She ruffled around in her bag then pulled a skimpy bit of fabric out. “I promised my friend I’d lend it to her, but… I guess you need it more than her, eh?”

“No. No way in hell—”

“Oh, come on, macho man. Woman up.”

“I am not putting that on. It’s not… my style.”

She arched her eyebrow. “Suit yourself.”

Ten minutes later, he was sitting at the back of the class with his coat buttoned up as far as it would go. The heat in the room was turned on full blast and he was sweating his balls off, but he’d rather have chomped off his own arm than have unbuttoned the coat.

This was going to be a long day.

*******

By the time Louis finally got home, he’d managed to miss the bus by half a minute and stepped in dog shit on the way to the building. As he closed the door of the flat behind him, he promised himself that would be the last awful thing to happen to him today. From now on, he’d have been the paragon of luck and good fortune.

When he shrugged off his coat and collapsed on the couch, Zayn blinked at him owlishly, swallowing the spoonful of cereal in his mouth.

“Nice top.”

“Cheers,” Louis said, stretching his legs out, his thigh pressed against Zayn’s. “Thought I’d try something new.”

“Always thought you had a nice belly for a crop top.”

Louis patted his bare stomach and closed his eyes. The fabric was black and sheer and stretched tightly across his shoulders. “I reckon it shows off my arms.”

“It does.”

“Do you like the lace at the bottom?”

“Yeah. Very nice touch. Love the whole see-through vibe. I can see your nipples.”

“They deserve to be seen.” 

Zayn played with the lacy hem, his knuckles brushing over Louis’ ribs. Louis was too tired to squirm away from the ticklish touch right now.

“Want some cereal or are you too fancy for it now?”

Louis gave a short nod and opened his mouth wide. Zayn put the bowl under his chin and spoon-fed him without spilling a drop.

Louis had the best friends in the world.

*******

Louis had the worst mother in the world.

“Why would you give him my number without asking me first, mum? What the fuck?”

“Language,” she said, more out of habit than anything else. “I thought you’d… I don’t know. I thought you’d maybe want to hear from him? Talk to him?”

Louis flopped down on the mattress and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t. I’ve got enough on my plate without adding _him_ to it.”

“Boo, he’s your fa—”

“He’s _not_ my--,” he breathed in deep, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw ached, “he’s not my father. It takes more than donating sperm to be someone’s dad.” Even after the divorce, Mark was more of a father to him than Troy ever had been.

“Can you not be so crude, love? I talked to him for a bit and he’s… He’s genuinely sorry. He wants to make things right with you.” He heard his mother sigh and felt momentarily bad. Then he remembered Troy was the one who had decided to leave them on their own and start his own little family. That he hadn’t given a single fuck about any of them until now. And now he wanted to… what? Pretend none of that had happened and be welcomed back with open arms? No. Fuck no.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Look… I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to see him. He’s a stranger to me.” Louis fisted the duvet and bit back the urge to scream into his pillow and hang up. “Why now, anyway? Does he need a kidney or something?”

A beat of silence.

Louis shot up, pressing the phone closer to his ear, a throbbing headache brewing behind his temples. “Does he actually need a kidney?!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” his mother said. Louis was not convinced. There had to be an ulterior motive. “He didn’t say anything about a kidney.”

“Yeah, well. He’s not going to mention it right away, is he? I am not giving him my kidney.”

“Louis, no one is asking you to donate organs, Christ. Just hear him out, at least? If you don’t like what he has to say, be an adult about it and tell him yourself.” With a softer tone, she added, “Listen, I know this is hard for you. I _know_. But it might be good for you. I know it bothers you that he left, even if you never say anything. You used to miss him and ask about him when you were little, you know. It doesn’t just go away.”

“You can’t miss something you’ve never had. I barely even _remember_ him now.” What he did remember was his mum saving every penny she earned and her red-rimmed eyes when they didn’t have enough money to pay all the bills. When she couldn’t pay for his or the girls’ school trips and Christmas consisted of hand-me-downs. He remembered having to rush home from school to watch his two younger sisters instead of going out to play footie with his mates. He’d acted more of an adult than his so-called father ever had.

“Promise me you’ll think about it?”

“All right,” he lied, flicking off the lint on his jeans. “Listen, Zayn is calling me to help him out in the kitchen. I’m going to go, yeah?”

She sounded tired and sad when she said, “Okay, love. Take care and call me when you can. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he said, meaning it. “Bye, mum.” He stared at his phone until the screen went dim and then black. Maybe he should call Harry and reschedule their date. Being sad and downtrodden was anything but attractive, and Louis quite wanted to keep Harry around for as long as he could.

The clock read 7:46 pm and Harry was due in about fifteen minutes, probably on his way over already. No time then.

He dragged himself to the bathroom to splash his face with cold water, half-heartedly waxing his hair into a messy side-fringe quiff thing Zayn had inappropriately called his “sugar daddy hair”. He was just about to sit down in the living room to wait when the doorbell rang.

Since Niall was out on a “quest for booty”, as he’d so charmingly named it, and Zayn was napping in his room, Louis rushed to open the door.

“Hi,” Harry beamed, pulling Louis in by his waist to press a soft kiss to his mouth. The headache didn’t seem so pounding anymore.

“Hi,” he echoed, breathing Harry in. “You smell really nice.”

“Thanks. I happen to shower every day,” Harry said, a dimple in his cheek. Louis just wanted to fold him up and put him in his pocket.

“Do you want to come in for a bit? It’s a bit of a mess, but… well, you’ve seen worse already.”

“Yeah, okay.” He grabbed Louis’ hand and let him pull him inside. “At least there’s no dirty pants hanging off the lamp this time.”

The smile on Louis’ face felt more like a grimace, but he did try. Not hard enough, apparently.

“Hey,” Harry said, cupping Louis’ face, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth just below Louis’ earlobe. “You all right?”

Louis’ chin dropped lower, shoulders drawn up in a hesitant shrug. “I’m… I’m just a little tired.”

Harry pulled him into a hug, palm settling at the nape of his neck, the cadence of his calm heartbeat lulling Louis into a state of sleepy complacency.

“Would you rather stay in? Because I don’t mind.”

“But you’re all dressed up already and you look so nice—”

“Well, you’re here and you’ve seen and appreciated my effort, so… mission accomplished.” His smile was crooked and charming as fuck. “I could give you cuddles? I could go for some myself.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind though?”

“Hardly,” Harry said, his palm sweeping up and down Louis’ back in slow comforting strokes. His touch worked better than Advil.

“Okay. Sorry if it’s not the fun I promised. I’ll do better next time,” Louis mumbled into his shoulder, breathing in the sweet smell of him, the fabric of his shirt soft under Louis’ clutching fingers.

“Louis, you could literally sit me down in a chair and just let me stare at you without speaking and I’d have the time of my life.”

Louis snorted a laugh and hugged him tighter. The words _I could love you so easily_ itched on the tip of his tongue. “I’ll remember that for next time.”

“Good. But for now, we’re getting us some cuddles.” Harry actually picked him up, giggling as he made Louis rest his feet on top of Harry’s, waddling them towards the bed in Louis’ room.

“I’m heavy!” Louis complained, his smile hidden against Harry’s jaw as he held onto Harry’s neck tightly to take a little pressure off Harry’s feet.

“About as heavy as a feather, yeah.” Harry lifted him up by his waist as though he really weighed nothing and set him down on the bed. “Scoot up.”

The mattress dipped as he settled down with his head on the pillow, curled into himself. Waited. It took barely two seconds before Harry’s arms pulled him in, his chest solid and warm against his back. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been the little spoon before. Not like, with a guy that isn’t Niall or Zayn.” The jeans he’d put on were tight and restricting and he really wanted to take them off. He just didn’t want to make things sexual. Wasn’t really up for it right now.

“What’s the verdict then? Do you like it?” Harry’s fingertips brushed over his knuckles, gently stroking.

“Yeah,” Louis admitted. “Feels nice… with you.” _Makes me feel safe and loved_ , he thought but didn’t say out loud.

“Good, because I like holding you like this.” Harry nosed at his nape, fingers stroking the back of Louis’ hand, wrapping loosely around his wrist.

The sheets rustled, little puffs of Harry’s breath warm on his skin. “Do you think we could… like, get more comfy? My jeans are really bloody tight.”

“Yeah,” Louis said on a relieved exhale. “Same here.”

When they sat up to get rid of their trousers and shirts, Harry pointed a finger at him. “No funny stuff, Tomlinson. I’m a virtuous young man.”

“Not sure if I can handle the heat,” Louis said dryly, secretly relieved Harry had read him like an open book. “I should warn you. I’m very improper.”

“Dear Lord,” Harry said, his scandalised face undermined by a giggle. “Come here then, you minx. Better make sure you behave.”

“You better,” Louis half-slurred into Harry’s collarbones the second he curled into Harry’s body, tucked his head beneath Harry’s chin, tangling his legs with Harry’s to feel even closer.

“Lou?”

“Hmm?”

“Is that a woman’s shirt on your chair?”

Louis twisted around to look, and sure enough, Harry was peering at the borrowed crop top. “Yeah. Decided to update my wardrobe.”

“Oh. Okay,” Harry said, nonplussed.

“Kidding, babe.” Louis smoothed his palm down Harry’s side to rest on his hip, loved the way Harry arched into his touch so eagerly. “Had a bit of a strange day.”

“Want to talk it out?”

He should have shrugged it off and said it wasn’t interesting enough, not important enough. He should have closed himself off as he always did when people he didn’t know too long tried to pry him open and wriggle inside. Only, he didn’t. Because Harry was earnest and soft and warm and never pressured Louis into anything. Because when Louis let himself, he could see the two of them together far down the line, co-dependent and domestic, with a house full of kids and kittens, stealing kisses in the corridors. Something about this boy just made him fold like a cheap garden chair. It wasn’t _fair._

“Stop me if you get bored.”

They didn’t stop talking until the world outside had gone pitch dark, still and quiet, the heat of their closeness soaked into the mattress and duvet and Louis’ bones. And even though the skin-on-skin stirred hints of arousal in their blood, it wasn’t urgent. Not as urgent as getting to listen to Harry’s voice, slow and sweet like molasses, whispering any random thought into Louis’ cheek. Not as urgent as just being close, nuzzling, pressing gentle kisses into each other’s mouths.

The last thing Louis remembered before he drifted asleep were Harry’s lips lingering against his hairline and he couldn’t help the fleeting thought of _I could get used to this._

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even sorry about the crop top. Or the schmooze at the end (a part of which was definitely not inspired by Louis x Girolle, haha I don't know what you're talking about). Let me know if you enjoyed, pretty please?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Cara aka mystardustmelody for editing for me, you are the best of the best!! And thank you to everyone reading, you are made of starshine and sugary awesomeness and I want to massage your feet [but not like in a weird way, and only if you've showered recently].

The morning light hit his face through the slats in the window, the duvet kicked down to his thighs, which. Louis squinted, frowned when he couldn’t move his legs. When he looked down his body past sleepy eyelids, he realised Harry had wrapped himself around him like a human koala, light snores puffing against Louis’ belly. As he dropped his head back on the pillow, his fingers stirred in Harry’s mess of curls. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so well, the last time he hadn’t woken up with chilly feet.

He knew the moment when Harry woke up because his snores turned into a sleepy groan, arm tightening around Louis’ middle. He nudged Louis’ bare belly with his nose. “Lou?”

“Hm?”

“Pet me.” Harry’s morning voice was low and rough and shagged out. Louis had not been prepared. His fingers flexed in Harry’s hair, tugging a bit more harshly than he’d have normally done. Harry didn’t seem to mind at all. Quite the opposite, actually.

“Mmm, yeah.”

“Want me to pull on it?” Louis teased, twisting the strands at the back of Harry’s head around his hand to do just that.

“Lou,” Harry breathed, rubbing his face against his belly, thumbing at the waistband of his briefs. “Please.”

 _Please._ Louis was done for. Especially when Harry straddled his leg, hot and hard when Louis tugged on his hair even more.

“Is this, like, a thing for you then?”

“Maybe?” His eyelids had slipped half-shut, mouth dropping open on a muted moan. “Do you think it’s… do you think it’s weird?”

“Weird?” Louis knotted his hand in Harry’s hair to pull him up, biting the inside of his cheek when Harry’s thigh pressed up between his legs. “If by weird you mean incredibly hot, then yeah.”

Harry kissed the curve of his neck, blunt nails scraping up his side. “ _You’re_ hot.”

Louis did most definitely not giggle like a love-struck idiot. Love-struck giggling was for the weak. “What else would you like me to do to you?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said. Louis would have bet his shoe rack that that was a big, fat lie.

“Would you like me to,” he pulled hard, “put you over my lap and spank you?”

Harry squirmed against him, fingers digging into Louis’ waist as if to ground himself. “Y-yeah.”

“Tie you up, be a good boy for me?”

Harry keened low in his throat, his hand sliding down Louis’ torso to curve around his hard cock through his briefs. Louis had to blink twice and take a deep breath to remember what he’d been saying in the first place. “What else?”

Even though Harry had his face in Louis’ neck, Louis knew he was blushing, could feel the heat of his skin. “What else, Harry?”

“Like… tease me? Until I… um, can’t take it anymore. And then… keep going.”

“Christ.” With one last tug on Harry’s hair, he smoothed his palm down his broad back to squeeze his bum before rolling them over, settling in the cradle of Harry’s strong thighs. “I want to. Want to see how long you can take it.”

“I can,” Harry leaned up to kiss the corner of his mouth, rolling his hips against Louis’, “for you. I can be good.”

Louis had to bite down on the side of Harry’s neck to muffle his groan. “Fuck, the things I want to do to you…”

“Then do it.” Harry’s head lolled to the side, granting Louis access to more skin, more flesh to bite and nibble and suck bruises into as Harry caressed the length of his spine. “Want to please you.”

Louis had never been more turned on in his life just from hearing someone _speak._ But Harry’s words dripped off his tongue like melted chocolate and he arched his entire body into Louis’, whimpering helplessly when Louis grabbed his wrists to pin them above his head. 

“God, you do, don’t you? Would let me do all sorts of naughty things to you.” He kissed his way up to Harry’s ear and suckled on the soft skin just behind his earlobe, his hips rubbing dirty figure eights into Harry’s.

“Lou—”

“Do you think you could,” he ground down, felt shivers race over Harry’s skin, their hips restless, “come… just like this?”

“Fuck, yes.” When Louis tightened his grip on Harry’s wrists, his back bowed helplessly, his pulse hammering against Louis’ palm. He’d never been with anyone this responsive before. Nobody had ever looked at him like this, as if their entire world had narrowed down just to him and the electric slide of skin on skin, giving themselves over to Louis so entirely. So openly.

“You’re so beautiful.” He pressed his mouth to Harry’s jaw, kissing the warm skin softly. “My beautiful Harry.”

Harry whimpered, wriggled one hand free to knot it in the back of Louis’s hair. “I’m… close.”

Louis wanted to pull their pants down and do it properly, wanted to feel Harry right against him, hot and slippery and desperate for it. Wanted to, but couldn’t find it in himself to pull away for even a second. Not with Harry’s thighs clenching around his hips, the friction so good Louis could barely keep it together.

“Yeah, yes,” Harry mumbled, his voice a raspy growl that sent a curl of heat straight to Louis’ belly. “Wish I could… see your bum r-right now.”

“My b—”

Harry slid his palm down his spine and into Louis’ briefs to grip his cheek in his enormous hand, squeezing, and. Okay. If he had to bite down on his tongue and think of Niall with knickers on his head to keep himself under control, nobody had to know.

“Bet it looks… amazing. So curvy and r-round and …flexing,” his breath shuddered out against Louis’ temple as he freed his other hand to scratch the nape of his neck, “want to lick you out so bad.”

“Fucking _fuck_ , Harry.” His elbows shook. He could feel Harry’s thighs tremble, fire igniting at the base of his spine when he felt the slick tip of Harry’s cock pop out from the waistband and rub against his belly.

“Ngh, L-lou. Lou, I’m—” Harry’s fingernails dug into his nape and bum, a deep guttural moan exhaled against Louis’ skin, hips stuttering wildly, Harry’s thighs clenching around his hips to the point of pain. 

Louis forced his eyes open, stared as Harry’s head tilted back, jaw slack, cheeks turning rosy and flushed as he shot all over their bellies, muscles spasming with the aftershocks. Louis was so, so close he felt the fire of it licking over his nerve endings. He just needed—

 _Bang. Bang. Bang._ “Louis! Get up, you lazy sod!”

He was too stunned to even react, just widened his eyes at Harry when the door burst open and Niall came bounding in, stopping dead in his tracks about two feet away from jumping on top of the bed as he did almost every morning. He had earphones in, dressed in wrinkled clothes from the night before, blinking at them. “Shit.” He shook himself out of stupor, started to twist around in one place in panic like a confused squirrel. Louis would have laughed if Harry’s hand wasn’t still palming his arse, his come sticky on their bellies. Louis was so hard he wanted to cry. 

“Niall, do you _mind?_ ” His words came out strangled and squeaky and Niall’s face flew right past red and turned almost purple instead. 

“Shit, sorry! I… uh,” He gave a small wave then looked at his hand as if it had personally offended him, his expression clearly reading _what the fuck did I do that for?_ He ran out of the room without closing the door.

“I’m going to murder him,” Louis whined into Harry’s neck. 

“Do you want me to,” Harry wriggled his eyebrows, his face sweaty and blissed out, “you know.” He made a jerking gesture with his hand in front of Louis’ face.

He bit down on Harry’s shoulder, sank his teeth into the warm, pliant flesh and counted to five. “Can’t. Fucking Niall killed the mood. I’ll just—” Pulling away took almost Herculean effort, but he managed. Couldn’t keep from staring at Harry though, all spread out before him, sated and sleepy-eyed, looking at him back with lazy hunger. 

“You’re still hard,” Harry pointed out, licking his lips because Louis had not suffered enough already.

“Yeah, well. Have you _seen_ yourself?” 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to…”

Oh, he wanted to, but. Not when he couldn’t enjoy it properly, not if he had to rush. “Later, yeah? When the kids aren’t around.”

Harry smiled, stretching out on the bed like a cat. 

“Let me clean you up, yeah?” He didn’t wait for a response and hurried into the adjacent bathroom instead. He was just soaking a towel in warm water when a hand settled on his hip, the other sneaking around his waist to take the towel out of his hand. Louis lifted his gaze to look in the mirror, mouth going dry at the intensity in Harry’s eyes. Maybe he could rush a little bit.

Once Harry cleaned himself off, the towel fell on the counter with a damp smack. His solid chest pressed against Louis’ back, fingernails catching on his sensitive nipples on the way down from his chest to the happy trail disappearing into his briefs.

“You’re really, really hot.” Harry’s lips tickled the shell of his ear, fingers dipping beneath the fabric to dance over his length. “Look at yourself.”

Louis gripped the counter so hard his knuckles turned white. He looked wrecked, sweaty and flushed. _Needy._ Couldn’t stop making the little keening noises when Harry closed his hand around him in a firm grip and started pulling torturously slowly.

“So thick,” Harry whispered, his cock half-hard against Louis’ bum. “Can’t wait to feel you stretching me. Want it. Want to be inside you too. Want everything.”

Any minute now, Louis’ knees would give out, he was sure of it. “Yeah, yeah. Want it too. Everything. _Please._ ”

Harry thumbed over his slit, mouth falling to the side of Louis’ neck to suck a bruise into his flesh. 

“Tommo! What the fuck have you done to Niall, he looks traumat—oh. Hi Harry.” Zayn stopped in the doorway, smirking as if he wasn’t the second person today to ruin Louis’ morning. Did nobody ever knock and wait for an answer? What the fuck. “Can you two stop fooling around and come eat breakfast before it gets cold? I made eggs.” 

It may have been Louis’ imagination, but as Zayn strolled out, there was a definite _haha-I-just-cockblocked-you_ spring to his step. Louis was so frustrated he was actually tearing up. “You better go before Z comes back to drag us out.”

Harry’s hand squeezed him tight. “But—”

“Go, distract them while I take care of… this.” He looked down at himself, whimpered when Harry pulled his hand out. He pushed a very reluctant Harry out and closed the door. It took less than twenty seconds to finish himself off, his hand braced on the wall, nails digging into the tile when his toes curled with the force of it. 

When he sat down to eat and snuck a glance at Harry doing the same as he played footsie with him under the table, he realised it had barely taken the edge off. 

Niall’s face was still bright red.

“Nialler,” Louis said, kicking him in the shin. “What’s with the silent treatment? We’re both dressed now, you can look.”

Niall’s gaze flicked up to meet Louis’, blotchy red spots popping high on his cheeks. “It’s not that. The two of you… it just looked really, _really_ hot, that’s all.”

Louis choked on his eggs, glaring at Zayn who was currently laughing so hard he could hardly draw a breath. Niall shrugged and stuffed his face full of food, probably so he wouldn’t have to elaborate on his internal crisis. Harry just scratched his chest and smiled.

*******

The following week sucked, to say the least. Louis hadn’t seen Harry in _days_ , both of them buried up to neck in textbooks and half-term applications for relevant work placement. The last time he’d got to kiss Harry was after his weekly yoga session exactly 106 hours ago, and he _missed_ him. Missed how his skin smelled of mangoes, missed the softness of his mouth, the comforting length of his body slotted to his from head to toe. Missed hearing his voice and his dumb puns in person just so he could pretend he didn’t love every single one. Talking over the phone just didn’t quite cut it.

“Can you stop tearing those napkins, Lou?” Niall asked, sitting cross-legged on Louis’ bed.

“What?”

Niall gave a pointed look at Louis’ table. 

“Oh.” Louis poked the little mountain of shredded napkins and smiled sheepishly. “Think it’s time for a study break.”

“Fuck yes!” Niall pushed his laptop away and rubbed his eyes. “Where’s Zayn?”

“The studio, I think? Supposed to be working on his modern art assignment.” Louis hoped Zayn had remembered to eat. Maybe he should have texted him.

Just as he was about to open his messaging app, feet pounded on the floor outside his room, followed by a slam of the bedroom door. Louis had never been one to contain his curiosity too well, so he snuck out of his room and entered Zayn’s without knocking. They should probably have done something about their terrible habits and lack of personal space, but. Today was not the day.

“Zaynie? You all right, babe?” He leaned against the doorjamb and watched Zayn dart around his room frantically, picking random things up and placing them elsewhere. His hair was all over the place, as if he’d run his hand through it repeatedly.

“Zayn?” Louis walked in and rested his hand on Zayn’s shoulder, drawing him away from a glass full of dirty brushes. “What’s wrong?”

Zayn dropped his arms to his sides, nostrils flaring, his lips a thin line. That never meant anything good. “I kissed him.” He blinked, jolting out from whatever strop he’d worked himself into. “Oh my fucking God, Lou. I _kissed_ him.”

“Wait. Are we talking about Liam?” He stroked Zayn’s tattooed bicep.

“Yes. I just… and he… bloody hell.”

“That bad of a kisser, is he?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Zayn said miserably, shoulders slumped. Even his hair seemed to have wilted even more in sympathy. “He didn’t kiss me back.”

“Oh.” He drew his best friend into a hug and wondered how Liam could have resisted that face, with its long lashed whiskey eyes and sharp jaw line and pouty mouth, the soft heart beneath hard exterior. It just wasn’t right. “Want to watch _Avengers_ again?” Sometimes, there were more important things than getting an essay done. He’d just stay up longer to work on it.

“Okay.”

“I come bearing chocolate!” Niall yelled, throwing himself at them both. “It’s coffee flavoured, just the way you like.”

If Zayn sniffled, none of them commented on it, just hugged him tighter and petted his hair. He never let anyone else touch it.

They were just settling down in the living room when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” Niall offered, getting off the couch with a loud groan of protest. Sometimes Louis suspected Niall was just a drunk, forty-year-old bachelor in a twenty-year-old lad’s body.

“Where did you even meet Liam? I thought you were at the studio.”

“I may have, um, texted him? To come see me at the uni? Then I just… went for it.”

Louis twisted around on the couch to face him, tucked his knees under his chin. “What did he say? After you… you know.”

“I didn’t really stick around long enough to find out. I kind of… ran.”

Louis sighed. “Zayn.”

“What?”

“You can’t just _run._ Maybe he was too surprised to—”

“Lou!” Niall called. “It’s for you, mate!”

*******

Fifteen minutes later, Louis found himself squished against the armrest as the girl he’d borrowed the top from— _Perrie_ —ended up in the middle between Zayn and a very entranced Niall, who was currently rubbing her feet. Whenever Louis wanted a foot massage, he always had to bring him food as bribery first. What kind of favouritism was this?

“My favourite’s the Hulk,” she said, popping a crisp in her mouth, flexing her toes and nodding her thanks at Niall after she stretched out her legs.

“Mine too!” Zayn said, literally turning his back on Louis. Even though Zayn preferred men, he hardly ever said no to a pretty face, man or a woman.

The outrageous negligence of his friends would have been offensive if Perrie hadn’t complimented his masterpiece of a poster of Beckham in nothing but tiny shorts. He reckoned she could stay.

“Cat woman is better,” he heard himself saying, the three heads swivelling to look at him in unison, expressions varying from confusion to fond exasperation.

“So whipped,” Zayn said and ruffled Louis’ hair while Niall provided the whipping sound effect. They were a couple of twats. “You should call Hazza over.”

“He’s working on his presentation today. Said to only call him if my hair was on fire.”

“When are you going to propose to the man?” Niall asked for the third time this week. 

“I’ve only known him for a month and two days.” Louis hid his face behind a cushion and flopped over their laps. Neither of them seemed to mind. “Stop making fun. I’m fragile.”

Nails that were decidedly too sharp to be either Niall’s or Zayn’s scratched gently down his back. Yeah. She could stay.

“Who’s Hazza?”

“Louis’ future fiancée. I’m giving them two more months before they elope,” Niall said. “They’re so disgusting, I swear to God. Last week when Harry was hanging out here, they fed each other ice-cream and had an entire conversation with just facial expressions.” 

“Shut up,” Louis groaned, buried his flaming face in Niall’s thigh. “Don’t act like you hate it.”

“Love it,” Niall replied, serious as a heart attack. “Better than watching soaps.”

“With more nudity though. You’re really bloody loud, Louis. You should know that your bathroom echoes,” Zayn added.

“It was only once! And you’re a little shit, you acted like you didn’t know!” Louis vowed to tickle Zayn until he peed himself. “I hate you all.”

“We love you too,” Niall said.

Perrie just giggled with her surprisingly deep voice, and continued scratching his back.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will the universe EVER stop conspiring against them? Will it?? Will it not?! [Louis' balls turning permanently blue in the distance]


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to Cara aka mystardustmelody for editing!!

Louis had never really cared that much about what he looked like in times of great stress, but even he was reaching his limit. He’d passed “grunge-chic” and ventured into “homeless” territory a few hours ago. 

He shrugged out of his jacket and folded it over his desk chair, a chair nobody could sit on anymore due to the ever-growing mountain of unwashed clothes piled on top of the seat. Just getting to his bed felt like wading through a minefield. Only instead of mines, Louis was tripping over empty candy wrappers and cartons of junk food and more clothes in dire need of a wash.

“Nobody ever puts _this_ in the uni pamphlets,” he muttered, scratching his four-day beard. He really needed a shave. And a shower, because his hair smelled like cheeseburgers he’d been flipping about thirty minutes ago. Fuck, he really hoped he’d get that paid internship.

“Lou, is that you?” Zayn halted at his doorstep, eyeing the mess inside distrustfully. “Finished your shift then?”

“Yeah. Still have to finish my essay. Just a conclusion though. I reckon it won’t take long.” Louis flopped on his back on the bed and made grabby hands. Zayn gave in with a sigh and somehow made it on top of Louis without sustaining injury.

“You stink like fast food.”

Louis wrapped his arms around his best friend and rubbed his scruffy cheek against Zayn’s, just because he was a little shit. “Does that turn you on?”

“Think you’re confusing me with Niall, babe.” He slumped into Louis like a rag doll. “So how’s married life going? Have you seen H today?”

“No, just talked to him on the phone in between lectures.” He could his feel his expression contort into what Zayn and Niall liked to call his “sad puppy dog” face. Louis liked to think of it as slightly-upset-in-a-manly-fashion face. He was so misunderstood. “I miss him.”

“Aww, Lou!”

“Are you quite finished?” Louis rolled them over on their sides and pinched Zayn’s slightly less stubbly chin. “I might see him tonight if I can finish my bloody essay.”

“Can’t you study at his place?”

Louis arched his eyebrow. “Not sure how much studying we’d actually do. He’s… very distracting.” 

“Have you two already done it then?” Zayn wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. Ridiculous. Louis would not indulge such foolishness.

“Done what?” He bit back a grin.

“The do,” Zayn said, seriously.

“Are we twelve now?”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with being twelve. You were twelve at one point too, you know.”

Louis winced. Not his most shining years, those. Some of the evidence still floated around in the deepest hell of the Internet. It had better _stay_ there. “Please, don’t remind me.”

“Stop beating around the bush and tell me.” And because Louis’s friends were all sadists, he got a cruel nipple twist for his troubles.

“Ow, fuck! Why are we friends again?”

Zayn pouted. He was a child and Louis would not stand for this kind of emotional abuse. Absolutely not. 

“Just tell me? I need to live vicariously through _someone._ I’ve decided it’ll be you.”

“Christ, _fine._ I’m… I mean we… uh, kind of…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “did not. Do the do. Yet.” He was a 21-year-old soon-to-be-graduate, had a part-time job and a driving license and this was the most eloquent response he could come up with. Okay.

“But,” Zayn started, brows furrowed, “last week?”

“We didn’t get to. _People_ keep interrupting us.”

At least Zayn had enough decency to look marginally chagrined. “Sorry about that.”

The next words burst out of his mouth before his brain could filter them out; a very common issue Louis seemed to have had ever since he was a kid. “What if I suck though?”

“Isn’t that the point?” Zayn replied with a shit-eating grin.

Louis smacked him over his head with a pillow. “I’m serious! I bet he’s built up all this anticipation and is expecting me to be some kind of… sex god. And I’m pretty good, but not _that_ good, and he’ll probably just end up being really fucking disappointed and decide I’m not worth his while after all, an—”

“Lou.” He yanked the pillow out of Louis’ limp hold and tucked it beneath his head. “He kept humming _Ode to Joy_ after he came out of the bathroom and you didn’t even shag him properly. I’m sure you’ll do okay.”

Louis picked at the corner of the pillow and asked quietly, “He did?”

“Yes!” Zayn patted his cheek and let his eyes fall shut. “As long as you don’t peak too soon, you should be all right.”

“You’re a twat,” Louis said matter-of-factly, sighed when Zayn pulled him into a cuddle and said, “Yes. Now let me nap here while you finish your essay. It won’t write itself, you know.”

*******

Louis had been wrong all along. Harry wasn’t a wizard. He was actually an angel. An angel bearing homemade food, which he’d cooked himself. _Of course._

Louis dragged him inside the flat by the lapels of his coat and pushed him against the door. The container of food was squashed between their stomachs, but Louis couldn’t care less, because Harry’s cheeks were bitten with cold and his lips were cherry red.

“I’ve really fucking missed you,” he said, surging up to press his mouth to Harry’s, kissing warmth back into his slightly chapped lips. Harry tilted his head to the side to get closer, deeper, one hand cupping Louis’ cheek so gently he wanted to stand here for hours and melt into Harry’s touch.

Their lips parted, a slick sound that left Louis aching for more. “I’ve missed you too,” Harry whispered into his jaw, one rosy cheek dimpling.

“I can’t believe you cooked a meal for me.” _Marry me so I can keep you forever._

“Handed in the last assignment today, thought of you surviving on nothing but shitty junk food.” He pecked Louis’ lips, smiling. “Couldn’t help it.”

“I really, really like you. I might keep you.”

Harry’s voice went soft and smooth like honey when he said, “I like you too.”

Louis was aware he was staring, could imagine what he’d have looked like to an outsider right now, just gazing up at Harry stupidly, smiling because his face just did things without his permission whenever Harry was near. He didn’t really care.

“Share it with me?” he asked, taking Harry’s hand in his, rubbing the back of it with his thumb as he pulled him into the small kitchen. 

“That’s all right, I ate already. I cooked it for you.”

Five minutes after they settled on the couch in the living room, Harry was stealing bits off his plate. Louis didn’t mind. Sharing was caring.

*******

Louis stirred awake some time in the middle of the night and scrubbed his hand down his face, blinking in an attempt to make sense of his surroundings. The living room was pitch black, save for the strip of moonlight spilling into the room through the gap in the drapes, and Louis was comfy. The pleasant weight of lethargy settled over his bones and seeped into his muscles, his body wedged comfortably between the backrest of the sofa and Harry’s sleeping form. 

The pipes in the bathroom whined, a bed frame squeaked as Niall must have turned around in his sleep.

Louis put his head down on Harry’s warm chest, steady heartbeat going _da-dum da-dum_ beneath his ear, chest rising and falling in comforting waves. Louis’ eyelids felt like lead as he pulled the fluffy blanket higher up to his chin and over Harry’s torso, wondered who had thrown it over them. Must have been Zayn, always mothering Louis when he thought nobody was watching. Must have turned the TV off too. If it hadn’t been for Zayn and the curly haired human radiator fitted to him from head to feet, Louis would have frozen his toes off.

Careful not to wake Harry, he reached over to tap the screen of his phone, which he’d tossed on the coffee table before they’d commenced a _Breaking Bad_ marathon. It read 3:13 a.m., plus one missed call from an unknown number. Louis set it back down and rested his weight on his elbow as he blinked down at Harry, who was snoring softly, one arm wrapped loosely around Louis’ waist.

If Louis hadn’t been as groggy and reluctant to move, he’d have put a biscuit in Harry’s open mouth. As it was, he just watched as the blue-ish light spilled over the smooth curve of Harry’s cheek, pooled around the shadows beneath his soft eyelashes and the bow of his upper lip. With his hair spread around on the cushions and milky skin bathed in blue, he looked almost otherworldly. Distant and unattainable.

 _I can’t believe you’re mine_ , Louis thought, mouth quirking up into a lazy smile when Harry whined in his sleep and pulled him down into his arms again. Louis nuzzled the edge of Harry’s slack jaw, curled around his body and fell asleep to the rhythm of his heart.

*******

When Louis woke up again, he was alone on the sofa, a post-it note stuck to his cheek. He peeled it off and squinted.

 _‘You looked so cute I didn’t have the heart to wake you. See you later at yoga. You owe me a good morning kiss. :)’_ The multitude of x’s on the end filled the rest of the note until Harry had run out of paper. Louis’ boyfriend was ridiculous. His _boyfriend._ Christ.

He definitely did not fold the note up carefully, nor did he sigh wistfully as he cradled it against his chest. 

“What’s wrong with your face?” Niall asked, lifting Louis’ feet and putting them in his lap so he could sit down. The TV flickered on.

“What?”

“It’s doing this weird thing. Like, a bit similar to when we watched that documentary on hedgehogs, but different.”

Louis kicked him in the thigh and tried to scowl. He wasn’t sure he’d succeeded. The words of Harry’s note were too fresh against his palm. “Don’t you have classes to go to?”

“Nah. Not yet anyway. Still got an hour before I need to get ready.”

“What time is it?”

“Quarter to ten.”

“Shit!” Louis jumped up, snatched his phone and staggered to his room, fully prepared to brave the mess scattered on the floor, only. There was none. The room smelled like fresh air and detergent, all the dirty clothing he’d been ignoring for the past two weeks washed and hung on the drying rack by his built-in wardrobe, the trash gone. He stood there, gaping. “What…”

“Oh, yeah,” Zayn said from the doorway, eyes still puffy from sleep. It always took him at least two hours and a cup of black coffee to fully wake up. “Harry did your laundry and aired out your room. Asked me if he could, so I told him to go for it.”

Oh God. He’d probably seen all the balled up tissues on the floor by his bed too. Yup. The floor was clean. Fuck. Maybe he could say he had pre-winter allergies instead of a highly increased wanking issue that had gone rampant ever since he’d first seen Harry?

“Should I not have let him?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I _hate_ doing laundry.” His room hadn’t looked this nice since the last time his mum had come to visit. “Is a month too soon to ask someone to marry you?”

Zayn just chuckled and watched silently as Louis dashed into the bathroom to brush his teeth in record time. Thankfully, he didn’t comment on the piece of paper Louis had put into his bedside table. “Got a lecture?”

“In ten minutes!” Louis called after he spat out the foam.

When he came back in to change into less ratty joggers and bundle up for the chilly November day, Zayn was sitting on the edge of his bed, all dressed up and handing Louis his beanie. He took it, pulled it on to cover up his unkempt hair. 

Shit, he had no time to eat breakfast.

“I’m coming with you,” Zayn explained, following Louis out of his bedroom. “Might as well go to the library since I’m up.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Zayn Malik?”

“Went to bed early yesterday,” Zayn said with a shrug.

“And again, I’m asking the same thing.”

Zayn rolled his eyes, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Go put your shoes on, babe, I’ll grab us some food.”

“I love you,” Louis said, pulling at Zayn’s arm at the last second. “Wait.”

“What?”

“Your trousers are falling down, you slob.” He gripped the belt loops of Zayn’s jeans and yanked them up then patted his hips. “There, much better.”

“Thanks, mum.”

“Welcome. Now go get the food.”

It was a good thing they lived five minutes away from campus. Louis had made it with a minute to spare. Just enough time to finish his banana and turn off the sound on his phone. When it started vibrating with an unknown number a moment later, he ignored it and pulled out his notebook instead. He may have ended up zoning out halfway through the lecture, several stick figures with curly hair and headscarves doodled in the corners.

*******

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, wriggling around as he glanced down at Louis’ handiwork. The gym had emptied out five minutes ago, so it was just them, sitting down on the floor on Harry’s bubblegum pink mat.

“You forgot to pin up your sleeves today.” He rolled the cuffs of Harry’s sleeves up to his shoulders and tucked them in so they wouldn’t roll down so easily. “I’ve missed your arms.”

Harry got that smug smirk on his face, the one that made Louis want to pin _him_ down and snog it off his face. 

With a kiss to his own bicep, Harry gave him a decidedly not-sexy wink and said, “Welcome to the gunsho—”

“No,” Louis said. “I can’t believe you did that. You’re awful. Absolutely horrible.” He shoved at Harry’s shoulder, sneaking in a quick tickle to his ribs. “So _lame._ ”

Harry grinned as he twitched away from Louis’ hands, his eyes sparkling. “Let me tell you a joke.” 

“I’m scared.”

“Why did the baboon ask the giraffe ‘why the long face’?”

“Why?” Louis asked, warily.

“Because he thought his neck was his face!” He collapsed into giggles against Louis’ shoulder, snorting and slapping his thigh, because _of course_ he’d be the kind of person who laughed at his own jokes.

“Oh no. It’s even worse than I expected.” And it was, so why was he laughing too? Oh God, what was wrong with him?

“Wait, I have more!” Harry stretched out on the floor to reach his bag, rummaging through it. Louis was too distracted by the tight, round swell of Harry’s bum and the strip of pale skin above his yoga leggings to be too worried by what Harry would pull out.

It was a leather journal, the cover worn and scratched up, words Louis couldn’t read scribbled on the spine.

“What is this, then?”

Harry rolled over onto his back and cracked the journal open, flipping through the pages until he let out a victorious, “Aha! Found it.”

Louis lay down next to him and snuck a peek. It wasn’t until he saw the pages filled top to bottom with hand-written knock-knock jokes that he realised he was head over heels for this boy. Fuck.

“Knock, knock,” Harry said, delighted already.

Louis caved in, because really. Where Harry was concerned, Louis couldn’t say no to anything. “Who’s there?”

“Cows.”

“Cows who?”

Harry started giggling before he even got the punch-line out. “Cows go moo, not who!”

Louis was in love with a dork. He was _in love._ God help him. 

He took the journal away from Harry’s unresisting hands and put it down on the floor carefully before he shuffled on top of Harry and kissed his still grinning mouth. He gave in easily, hands skidding over Louis’ back to knot in his hair, tilting his head to the side to kiss him deeper. Harry’s tongue tasted like peppermint, his lips soft and sweet like cotton candy. Louis could kiss him for hours without getting bored, without it having to go further. He just liked feeling _close_ to him, having Harry’s fingertips press into the nape of his neck and the dimples at the bottom of his spine, hearts beating faster with every brush of their lips.

“That one was a,” he breathed into Louis’ mouth, eyes dazed and glassy, “crowd pleaser.”

“The only pleasing I’m interested in right now is this kind.” Louis smacked a loud kiss on Harry’s lips before licking out to taste the bow of Harry’s swollen mouth. “Definitely could do without a crowd.”

Harry coaxed him down, open mouth pressed against open mouth, hot and slick and breathless, when someone cleared their throat.

They sprang apart at the same time, Louis rolling to the side. At the entrance of the gym stood a group of women, maybe a dozen, most of them trying to seem as though they hadn’t been looking. The rest just openly stared.

“Shit, sorry, Helen!” Harry said, staggering to his feet and helping Louis up before gathering their things. He held two water bottles in one hand. Louis was so turned on. “We lost track of time.”

The woman in a white belted kimono just smiled indulgently. “Can’t say I didn’t enjoy seeing that, H. Now scoot though, I’ve got a class to teach.” Even though she was tiny, Louis was pretty sure she could crack his spine without breaking a sweat. 

“Advanced Taekwondo class,” Harry explained, heaving his bag higher onto his shoulder and handing Louis his as they walked out. “That woman could kick my ass. Well, any of them could, probably.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second.”

“Hey,” Harry started, nudging his fingers in between Louis’ and swinging their arms as they walked, “Do you want to, like, hang out? At mine?”

 _Of course I do. I love you._ “Um, yeah. Yes. Sure. Let me just text the boys so they know where I’m at.”

Harry didn’t live too far off campus, so it only took them about ten minutes to get there. They climbed two flights of stairs, Louis lifting Harry’s hand to his mouth to press a quick kiss to the back of his hand before letting go so Harry could unlock.

“Are you sure your mum isn’t coming around today?”

Harry chuckled, blush creeping into his cheeks as he stepped inside the flat and dropped his keys into a little banana-shaped bowl by the door. “Very sure.”

“What about your sister though? Step dad? Grand parents? Cousins? Bloody Jehovah’s witnesses?”

Harry closed the door, toed off his shoes and walked up to Louis, leaving barely an inch of space between them. “Just us.”

“Just us,” Louis repeated dumbly, licking his lips. “Nice.”

“Very nice.” Harry nuzzled his temple, knuckles brushing over his cheek so gently Louis swayed on his feet a little. “I’m starving. Want some food?”

 _The only thing I want in my mouth is your cock,_ Louis thought, but nodded instead. “As if I could ever say no to your cooking. Or you cleaning up after me and doing my laundry. Did I say I really, really appreciate it?”

The smile on Harry’s face was almost bashful. “Only about two or three times.”

“Not nearly enough then.”

He padded after Harry to the kitchen, socked feet slipping on the polished wooden floor. 

“I like doing that. Cooking and cleaning and stuff. It’s relaxing.”

“You’re the strangest nineteen year-old I’ve ever met.”

One of the sleeves Louis had so painstakingly rolled up unravelled when Harry shrugged. “I’m very domestic.”

“Looks like we’ll get on very well then. Because I’m pretty much helpless when it comes to taking care of myself.”

Harry’s smile was blinding and Louis was helplessly drawn into his orbit. He shuffled closer and closer until he was right by his side, nervous fingers flicking up to fix Harry’s sleeve. It was totally an excuse to slide his fingertips down the smooth skin of Harry’s arm, but _whatever._

“I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo,” Harry said, eyes following the slide of Louis’ palm down to his elbow. “What do you think?”

“I think,” he stroked the inside of Harry’s elbow, swallowed hard when a shiver danced over Harry’s skin, “it looks cool. Not for myself, I don’t think. But, on other people. Yeah, it’s cool. Zayn’s got loads. You could ask him about it if you want.”

“Sick! I’ll do that.” 

Louis leaned against the counter and watched Harry move around the kitchen. He knew he was in trouble when he drifted off thinking about having Harry preparing them both lunch ten years and a lot more face scruff and tattoos down the road. 

“By the way,” Harry said as they sat down to eat, “I totally know what you used those tissues for. You don’t have any allergies.”

Louis choked on his mouthful.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh, I could use a Harry to bring me a home-cooked meal from time to time and clean up after me. That would be the life. [stares wistfully into distance]


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay, lovely readers, but I'm sure you'll appreciate that the chapter is twice its usual length. ;)  
> A massive thank you goes to Cara aka mystardustmelody who is lovely enough to correct my messes!

“Is there something on my face?” Harry asked with a barely suppressed smile, his attention never wavering from the TV.

“Nope.” Louis stretched his body out along the length of the sofa and planted his feet in Harry’s lap, tucking two pillows under his head so he could watch Harry watch the film. So much more entertaining.

“Just so you know, your feet are in my lap. I might get a sudden urge to tickle you.”

“I _will_ kick,” Louis threatened, wriggling his toes. Unconcerned, Harry just wrapped his fingers around Louis’ ankle, his thumb stroking the side of Louis’ instep.

“Maybe I like it rough.”

“Promises, promises,” Louis singsonged and crossed his arms behind his head. Harry must have been waiting for an opening, because he immediately lunged on top of Louis with a victorious cry. The weight of him pressed Louis into the sofa, with no place to hide and no means to escape as he latched onto Louis’ neck and blew a raspberry. And kept blowing them.

“Are you ticklish?”

“Harr—” He couldn’t _breathe._ Couldn’t stop giggling, hands shooting out to fist in the back of Harry’s soft white T-shirt, his heels digging into the cushions. “Ha—”

“I just need you to tell me if you’re ticklish.” Harry’s fingers delved beneath Louis’ T-shirt and fluttered over his ribs, blowing another raspberry just beneath his jaw. Louis was going to piss himself. “Come on, Lou, just _tell_ me.”

“I’m—” Louis hooked his leg over Harry’s hip and tried to roll them over, but Harry didn’t even budge. Just laughed into Louis’ neck then licked his cheek like an overeager dog. All this was definitely _not_ making Louis’ pants grow tight, because _what the hell._ Since when was tickling a turn on for him?

“Oh God.”

Harry—who was currently nipping the edge of his jaw—stilled. The tickles turned into caresses, a slow, deliberate slide of his soft, strong hands down to Louis’ waist as he pulled away to kneel between Louis’ spread thighs. His thumbs almost met in the middle, right above Louis’ belly button. Louis was more than a little overwhelmed by the sight.

Harry arched an eyebrow and glanced down at Louis’ crotch, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Seriously?”

Louis hid his face behind a very convenient throw pillow, his heart pounding like a drum. “You were on top of me and you were all… handsy!” He peeked at Harry above the edge of the pillow before hiding again. “It’s like a bloody Pavlov reflex.”

“So,” Harry started, thumbs stroking over his tummy. “Is that what you’re thinking of when you’re wanking then? Me being handsy?”

“Nah.” Louis shrugged, the very paragon of casual and aloof. “Think about Niall shoving a giant burrito into his gob, to be honest. He’s got the worst gag reflex in the world. Gets me all hot and bothered, that.”

Harry laughed, fingering the edge of Louis’ waistband. It was a testament to Louis’ great taste that Harry didn’t take things too seriously. That he could play Louis’ body like a finely tuned instrument. Louis most definitely wanted Harry to pluck his strings. And by strings, he meant his penis.

“Maybe I like competition. Makes me work harder to get what I want.”

Louis squeaked into the pillow and bumped his knee against Harry’s side. “And you want… me?” He _knew. _Of course he did, but. He _liked_ being told that he was wanted. That he was so hot Harry’s bottom lip was bitten raw and the intense look in Harry’s eyes would have him wary of becoming a homicide victim if he didn’t know any better. __

Harry’s next words were breathed into Louis’ skin, his lips barely brushing over the soft fine hairs beneath Louis’ belly button. “Would deepthroating a banana in front of you prove my intentions? _My_ gag reflex’s pretty much nonexistent.” 

_Fuck._ “Only if you look me in the eye while you do it.” 

Harry tugged at the waistband of Louis’ jeans with his teeth, stared at him back almost insolently. “Is there any other way?” 

Louis dropped the pillow to the floor and watched Harry rub his cheek against his bulging crotch, hands wedged beneath the couch and his bum. When he cupped each cheek and kneaded, Louis had to bite down on the inside of his cheek, hips canting up to get closer to Harry’s heavenly mouth. “Off. Take them… off.” 

Harry opened his mouth over his clothed cock and sucked so hard his cheeks hollowed out. He pulled away, hovering, meeting Louis’ eyes with a wicked glint in his own. “Nah. The movie isn’t over yet. I want to watch.” 

Then he sat up and relaxed into a sofa with a self-satisfied smile, hands folded behind his head as if he hadn’t just made Louis so hard there wasn’t enough blood left to make his brain work properly. Harry was a little shit and Louis was not having it. 

It took him a moment to recuperate, to smooth down his T-shirt and resist the urge to yank Harry’s jeans down and swallow him down. Two could play at this game. 

******* 

He started off slow. Just casually resting his hand on Harry’s leg, massaging circles into his inner thigh, trying not to be _too_ smug when Harry started fidgeting with the remote the second Louis edged further and further up until his pinky was grazing the seam of Harry’s jeans. 

“Nice!” Even though Louis was barely paying attention, he laughed at the lame one-liner on the TV and snuggled into Harry’s side with his legs tucked under his bum. When his palm ghosted over Harry’s half-hard cock on his way to resting on Harry’s hip, well. Accidents happened. 

“Yeah.” Harry let out a weak chuckle, squirming. If Louis had actually been aware of what was going on on the screen, he’d have asked Harry to explain what he’d found so funny, just to see him try to flounder his way out of it. Too bad Louis didn’t even know what the fuck they were watching in the first place. Didn’t know, nor did he care. Not when torturing Harry was so much more imperative. 

“Can you hand me the water, please?” Louis asked, sweet enough to give even himself diabetes. 

“Here you go.” 

“Cheers.” He took the glass off Harry and tilted it up to his lips. “Ah, bollocks!” he promptly spilled the entire glass down his T-shirt, maybe not entirely by accident. Ah, well. Since he did... He took off his T-shirt. 

“Shit, I hope you don’t mind.” He balled it up and started wiping down his torso. Just to be thorough. “I’m so bloody clumsy.” 

“Do you want one of mine to change into?” Harry asked, taking the empty glass off him and almost dropping it when his eyes didn’t leave Louis’ chest. 

Now that he had Harry’s unwavering attention, Louis put the damp T-shirt down on the corner of the table and rubbed his hand down his torso. Just to check he was all nice and dry, obviously. “No, I’m all right. But if you could bring me some water from the kitchen, that would be lovely. Still thirsty, I’m afraid.” 

“Yeah.” Harry swallowed hard and nodded. “Same here. I’m, um… parched.” The look on his face told Louis his thirst was of a decidedly different nature. 

“What are you going to do about it then?” 

Harry started to lean in when Louis tapped his wrist, nodding down at the glass he was still holding. “Water, please?" 

Harry blinked down at the glass as if he had never seen it before. “Water?” 

“And some fruit, maybe? If you have some.” 

Harry’s gaze flickered between the glass and Louis’ tented crotch, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. “I have strawberries? Is that all right?” 

“Perfect,” Louis said with a grin. 

When Harry came back and sat down again, Louis wasted no time in picking up a freshly washed strawberry from the bowl and pursing his lips around the tip of it to suck off the droplets of water. The flesh was ripe and soft and sweet when he bit down, a single droplet of sticky juice running down his chin. 

“You’ve got…” Harry’s thumb caught the juice before it could drip down on Louis’ chest. The point of contact was like a kick of electricity. 

“Sorry I’m so messy today,” Louis said quietly, holding onto Harry’s wrist and staring him dead in the eye as he slowly sucked Harry’s thumb into the wet heat of his mouth. He pursed his lips around it tightly, tongue rolling over the pad of it, swirling leisurely around the entire finger before letting it out with an obscene _pop._ The beat of Harry’s pulse was rabitting against Louis’ palm. “Delicious.” 

Harry tried to inconspicuously about adjust himself. Louis caught the motion from the corner of his eye. For a second, he almost felt bad. _Almost._

“Sorry about that. Now, where were we?” He curled up against Harry again, rested his head in the crook of Harry’s neck under the guise of platonic cuddles as he ate another strawberry. He felt Harry’s breath stir his hair, heard him inhale, hand clenching around the cushion he’d placed in his lap. Louis wondered how close to the edge he was. Whether he was as hard as Louis was, constricted to the point of pain. 

He picked up Harry’s hand and turned it over to trace over the heart line cutting across his palm, his lips grazing the shell of Harry’s ear as he asked, “Enjoying the film, Harry?” 

“Huh? Oh.” His breathing picked up, fingers curling in. “Um, yes. Yeah, it’s… good." 

“Good. Because I could’ve been sucking you off right now.” 

“Wh--” Harry choked on his own words, his head snapping to the side so quickly he almost head-butted Louis. 

“Could have unzipped you right here on this couch, would have teased you a bit, maybe.” He pushed the cushion off Harry’s lap, loving the way Harry sucked in a desperate breath when he circled the silver button at the top of his jeans. “Would have kissed the tip first, licked it just to have a taste. Fuck, I _love_ the way you taste.” 

Harry whimpered. “But… we can—” 

“Isn’t this what you wanted though?” He pressed his finger against Harry’s parted mouth, smoothed over the pillowy softness of his bottom lip. “To watch the film?” 

“Louis,” was all Harry breathed out, the tip of his tongue catching Louis’ fingertip when he tried to lick his lips. 

Louis may have underestimated the effect Harry’s reaction would have on _him._ He was _this_ close to rubbing one out against the nearest inanimate object, or Harry’s thigh, like a dog in heat. He placed a strawberry at Harry’s lips, drinking in the soft curve of his pouting mouth closing around his fingers. “You love it when I tease you, don’t you, love? Bet you’d stay still and wouldn’t come until I said you could.” 

“Yeah, yes, _Louis_ —” 

“I’m not finished.” 

Harry’s lashes fluttered and Louis had just about had it, had to bite down on the curve of Harry’s neck and count to five, heart pounding against his ribcage as if it wanted to take flight. He closed his mouth over the flesh and suckled until the blood rushed up underneath the skin, painting a bruise on Harry’s pale skin. 

“I wouldn’t take you in, at first.” He smoothed his hand down Harry’s torso until he reached the waistband of his jeans. He undid the button and slid the zipper down one-handed, not touching. If he touched Harry now, he wasn’t sure he could stop. “Would wait until you couldn’t take it anymore, until you got all flushed, so _pretty._ Then I would slowly, _very_ slowly… suck… you… in.” He kissed the edge of Harry’s jaw, shaking with the need to just _wreck_ him. Pull him apart piece by piece until he turned into a pliant, trembling mess. “I’d use my tongue. Maybe scrape my teeth over the tip because you’ve been a very bad boy. Haven’t you, baby?” 

Harry swallowed hard, legs spreading open just a bit more in silent invitation. 

“Haven’t you?” Louis slipped his hand under Harry’s T-shirt, slid it up Harry’s torso and flicked his fingernail over the hard peak of Harry’s nipple when Harry didn’t answer. 

“Yeah, yes, sorry,” Harry said, gripping Louis’ hand over his T-shirt to hold it in place. Watching Harry’s cheeks flush as Louis rolled the stiff peak between his thumb and forefinger and pinched bordered on a religious experience. He really loved the pain, didn’t he? Louis was so fucked. 

“How sorry are you?” 

“Let me be good for you. Show you.” Harry rubbed his face against Louis’ temple like a cat. “Please.” 

Louis stood up so fast his head spun a little, his skin itching to feel Harry’s again. “Bedroom. Now.” 

Harry rose to his feet sluggishly, stumbled into Louis’ body and nudged their mouths together in a slow, filthy kiss that tasted like sugar. They parted with a slick sound, Louis’ fingers hooked in Harry’s belt loops to tug him along. 

They staggered past the doorstep into Harry’s dark bedroom, mouths colliding in a heated kiss, Harry’s T-shirt discarded to the floor. His hands on Louis’ bare back felt like a special brand of fire. The kind that burned without hurting, that made his nerves spark to life. 

“I’m so hard,” Harry whimpered, pressed his clothed cock against Louis’ belly to prove his point. “Don’t think I’ll last.” 

“You promised you’d be good, remember, love?” Louis palmed him through the flaps of his undone jeans before backing away, holding his hand out stop Harry from following. “You can do it.” 

Harry swayed on his feet like a ship without its anchor, moonlight streaking over his chest through the slats in the window. 

“Take them off,” Louis said, hands shaking with the need to touch, to travel over the silky planes of Harry’s body and map them out with his mouth. He shucked off his jeans and sat down on the bed, watched fondly as Harry almost tripped over his own feet as he rolled the tight jeans down his legs and toed off his socks. He kicked them to the side and walked up to Louis, coming to a stop between his spread thighs, tentative fingers combing gently through Louis’ hair. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Louis said, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist in a tight embrace, resting his ear against Harry’s thundering heart. The rush of his own blood suddenly didn’t sound so loud, so urgent, anymore. 

“So are you. Can’t believe you’re mine,” Harry replied quietly, as if afraid to disturb the air, his thumb tracing the shell of Louis’ ear almost reverently. As though Louis was something precious and unique and only to be handled with care. 

“Does that mean I can spank you?” 

Harry barked out a laugh, untied locks sweeping into Harry’s face when he looked down at Louis. “You know I want you to.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you though. Not in a bad way.” 

Harry’s grin relaxed into a soft smile, thumb stroking down Louis’ nose before bopping the end of it. “You won’t.” 

“I know we’re not, like, doing anything too risqué and shit, but… there’s the safe word thing, right? I’ve been researching and all.” He tightened his hold on Harry and dragged him down on top of him, rolled them over twice so they sprawled over the king sized bed from head to toe, skin on skin, the contact of it like igniting fireworks. 

“You have?” Harry mumbled into his jaw, his hair tickling Louis’ cheeks on either side of his face. 

“Didn’t want to leave anything to a chance.” He stroked his hands down Harry’s broad back, leaned up to kiss him. To taste the sweet softness of his familiar mouth. “You wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve seen. I’m permanently scarred.” 

“Hope you at least turned your private browsing on.” 

“I love it when you talk dirty,” Louis teased, cupping the back of Harry’s head to pull him down into a kiss. His mouth slotted to Louis’ perfectly, plush and wet, heat spreading all the way down to Louis’ toes with every brush and lick of Harry’s tongue inside his mouth. 

“Butterfly,” Harry said, pecking his lips. 

“Huh?” 

“The safe word.” He nuzzled Louis’ jaw, voice threadbare and vulnerable. “Butterfly?” 

“That’s a good one,” Louis said with a smile, possessive hand cradling the nape of Harry’s neck. 

“Maybe I should have it tattooed on my belly.” 

Louis laughed and rolled Harry onto his back, kissed him on the nose just because. Louis _loved_ him. Loved him so much his skin felt too tight, too small to contain the enormity of it all. 

“Maybe I should get one to match.” The gravity of his words didn’t hit him until the suggestion had already slipped out of his mouth. That implied _forever._ Harry’s fingernails dug crescent shapes into his back, eyes wide and questioning, and Louis wanted to disappear in a puff of smoke. “Shit, I… I didn’t…” He clamped his mouth shut, mind blank of excuses. Because he _had_ meant it. Because there was nothing fickle about the feeling stretching within his ribcage and curling within the ventricles of his heart every time they kissed. 

"I didn’t think you wanted any tattoos.” 

"Not right now, I just… like, in the future. Maybe. I’m fucking stupid, sorry.” He tucked his head into Harry’s shoulder, grateful for the cover of the dark and Harry’s arms holding him close. 

“You’re not stupid.” Harry’s fingertips skidded down his spine, circled the dimples at the bottom. “I’ve always wanted to get matching tattoos. That would be _sick._ ” 

“Well, you might get sick of _me_ , as it were." 

“Nah,” he whispered into Louis’ ear, his lips barely brushing the shell. “I’d quite like to keep you.” 

“You’re a bit of a sop, aren’t you?” 

“Hey!” Harry smacked his bum, mouth curving into an exaggerated pout. 

“All right, that’s it.” Louis bit down on his shoulder before pushing himself off Harry. “Smacking my bum, Styles? You’ve just crossed a line.” 

Harry slid a hand down his own torso, down down _down_ until he reached the waistband of his briefs, pulling on it a little with a dirty smile. “What are you going to do about it?” 

“Naughty, _naughty_ things, Harry. I might put you over my lap and spank your bum until it’s red. Eye for an eye, and all that. Or, you know, bum for a bum.” 

Harry stared at him back with hooded eyes, his cheeks reddening when Louis kneed up to him and pressed his hand to Harry’s chest, slowly slid it down to his pelvis. The muscles beneath Louis’ hand jumped at the touch and he had to take in a deep breath to calm the fuck down. 

“You’re all talk,” Harry said with a lick of his lips, eyes trained on Louis’ fingers idly playing with his waistband. 

Louis arched his eyebrow, because he was cool as fuck and definitely not struggling to keep his breathing steady. “Why don’t you turn over and find out?” 

When he tapped Harry’s hip, he half-expected him to laugh it off and change his mind, and it would have been _fine._ Only, Harry flipped over with a needy little whimper and ground his hips into the mattress, the very idea of Louis slapping his arse apparently rendering him restless and squirming already. Christ, he hadn’t even touched the boy properly and he was already panting into the sheets. “All right, love?” 

“Yeah,” Harry said with a breathless giggle, the back of his neck flushing red, arms stretched over his head. “Sorry.” 

Louis bent down to kiss the taut spot between Harry’s shoulder blades. “What for?” 

“I just… I really want this. I’m, like,” he turned his face to the side, eyes closed, “it’s embarrassing, a bit. Or, it should be. More, that is.” Harry’s eyelashes fluttered against the sheets, breath catching when Louis peeled his briefs over the curve of his arse, knuckles brushing over velvety skin. “You make everything easy.” 

“Didn’t know this was supposed to be difficult.” He nuzzled Harry’s back, trailed lingering kisses down his spine until he reached the dip above Harry’s bum. “You can trust me with anything, you know. I want to learn all the things you like. Even if you think it’s weird or embarrassing. I won’t laugh or think it’s stupid.” He opened his mouth and sucked a love bite into Harry’s lower back. “I’ll probably be into it too.” 

“Lou—” 

“Shh, I want you to count now.” He smacked Harry’s arse, not hard enough, just hard enough to gauge Harry’s response. He loved the way Harry’s back arched beneath his mouth. “Count it.” 

“One,” Harry whispered, turning his face into the sheets again. “You can… um.” 

“What is it?” 

“You can do it a bit harder.” 

_Fuck._ Louis pushed himself into a sitting position again for better leverage and spanked Harry again, watched as his skin turned pink for a moment. 

“ _Yeah_ … Two.” 

Louis chewed on the inside of his cheek, every shift of his hips making the fabric of his pants rub over his cock in the most maddening way. He hit the fleshiest part of Harry’s bum twice in quick succession, his palm stinging with each impact. 

“Three.” Harry’s hands fisted in the sheets. “F-four.” 

“Christ,” Louis muttered, scraping his nails over Harry’s bum and down the back of his thighs then back up again. The little jerk of Harry’s hips and a groan muffled in the sheets made Louis want to write bad, filthy poetry. 

“God, do you know how hot you look right now? Want to mark you all over.” 

“Fuck, Lou—” 

_Smack!_

“Ngh…” 

Louis squeezed Harry’s bum cheek, mesmerised by the rapidly fading fingertips on his skin. “Count it.” 

“Five.” 

When Louis trailed his finger down the crack of Harry’s bum, just enough to tease, but not enough to touch the rim, Harry pushed his hips off the bed and into his hand. The room was silent save for the keening little noise half-trapped in the back of Harry’s throat and Louis’ quickening breaths. 

He smacked Harry’s bum harder than before, drunk on the way Harry trusted him, the way he asked for more with an almost inaudible whisper of _Louis, please._

“What’s the count, baby?” Louis asked, resting his palm over the pink blooms on Harry’s skin, caressing sensitive flesh. 

A shiver ran down Harry’s spine, his bottom lip bitten red as he turned his head to the side and rubbed his cheek against the sheets. “I don’t… I don’t—” 

“You’re doing so good, taking it so well. It’s okay.” Louis leaned down, kissed Harry’s slack mouth until he started responding, craning his head up, kissing Louis back, all drawn out and slow and hungry for it. 

“Was it,” Harry nudged his mouth against Louis’ for another kiss, “was it… six?” 

“Good boy,” Louis whispered, ignoring the throbbing length of his cock and carding his fingers through Harry’s hair instead, pulling a little. “Think you can make it to ten?” 

“Yeah. _Please._ ” 

“Shh, I’ve got you.” He dragged his hand down Harry’s back, the shadows dancing over his flushed skin with every shift of his muscles. The droplets of sweat gathering at the nape of Harry’s neck rolled down his spine. Louis nosed at the spot, Harry’s tangled up curls tickling his face. He smelled like summer thunderstorm. Like rain and earth and sun-kissed skin. 

_Smack!_

“S-seven.” 

_Smack! Smack!_

The echo of his hands turned Harry’s arse red, stayed a little longer this time. Louis cupped each cheek and squeezed. 

“Eight,” Harry whimpered into the sheets, hands clenching, hips grinding down into the mattress with the kind of desperation Louis felt thrumming in his own veins. “N-nine.” 

“Just one more, love.” The sight of Harry’s body, taut like a bow ready to spring, trembling and on the verge of rubbing off into the sheets almost unravelled him. He just wanted to curl his hand around his cock and tug. He took a steadying breath instead and straddled Harry’s thighs, palms rubbing over Harry’s bum and spreading him open. Harry quivered and Louis couldn’t help but brush the pad of his thumb over the rim. 

“Fuck, Louis.” 

“Just one left,” Louis said, more to himself as he bit down on his lip and brought his hand down. Hard. 

Harry cried out and arched into him, almost unseating him. 

“Count,” Louis reminded him, sliding down Harry’s body as if his own didn’t even belong to him anymore, just moved to the beat of _want_ and _need_ as he kissed the blotches of red on Harry’s skin. 

“Ten.” Harry sounded wrecked, as though Louis had already shagged him six ways from Sunday even though they’d only just gotten started. 

“You’ve been so good, I’m so proud of you. Such a good boy, aren’t you, Harry?” 

“Yeah, yes, your… _your_ good boy.” 

_MineMineMine._ Louis tugged Harry’s briefs all the way down his lean, trembling legs and threw them over his shoulder before dropping back down to nip at the silky backs of Harry’s thighs. 

“Lou, let me… I want to touch you.” 

“Just a sec, love.” He spread Harry’s cheeks again and licked over him slowly, the tip of his tongue barely dipping inside the tight, wet heat. He’d never done this to anyone, never really wanted to, but. Harry was fisting the sheets, quivering and pleading and smelled so good and clean that Louis couldn’t help himself. 

“Fuck, Lou, don’t or I’m gonna—” 

“Don’t,” Louis said, gripping his hips hard to keep him still. “Not yet.” 

When he flipped Harry over on his back and looked up the length of his body, his breath caught in his throat. The blush had spread all the way down to Harry’s chest, sweat gleaming above the cupid bow of his upper lip and the dip between his collarbones. 

The second their eyes met, Harry’s glassy and wet with tears, Louis’ phone started ringing somewhere on the floor. 

He bit the inside of Harry’s thigh. “Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“Are you… going to take that?” Harry’s hand slid down his own torso, stopping to rub at his nipples. All of them. Even a wildfire burning the flat building down wouldn’t have pried Louis off Harry’s body. 

“I wouldn’t stop if my mum and four sisters barged in right now.” 

Harry laughed, stroked Louis’ hair away from his face as he settled Harry’s legs over his shoulders and licked his lips. 

“It’s probably a good thing my mum has no idea where you live, because I’m starting to think we’re cursed.” 

“She knows about me?” Harry asked, sweet and earnest. 

Did she _know_ about him? The last time Louis had rung, she’d answered with “what cute thing has Harry done now?” Sometimes Louis would just snap pictures of Harry when he wasn’t paying attention and send them to his mum so she’d see how _endearing_ Harry was. How lucky Louis was to have found someone like him. “I may have mentioned you a couple of times.” 

“I might have, too,” Harry admitted, although Louis had suspected ever since Harry’s sister had implied it. 

“Well, I _am_ very interesting.” 

Harry’s giggle trailed off into a moan, eyes rolling into the back of his head when Louis kissed his way up his cock. It was so hard it kept jerking against his belly with every brush of Louis’ lips. 

“It’s a good thing you have the flat all to yourself. We can be as loud as we want.” 

“It’s my aunt’s,” Harry gasped out, his grip on Louis’ hair tightening when Louis rubbed his tongue over the ridge beneath the tip of Harry’s cock and pursed his lips around the head to suck. “She’s away for a year. America. Let me stay here to look after it.” 

“Mhmm,” Louis said, trying not to rub his crotch against the mattress and not quite succeeding. 

“Loud?” Harry asked, as though the words had only now registered in his muddled brain. 

“Let’s just hope _your_ walls aren’t paper thin, or you might get some complaints from your neighbours,” Louis said, picking up Harry’s cock to rub the head over his slack mouth. 

“If they do, I’ll just… bake them cupcakes?” Halfway on his way to utterly debauched and he still managed to be so endearing Louis wanted to cup his cheeks and snog him silly. 

He mouthed _I fucking love you_ against Harry’s flank. 

“Come here,” Harry rasped and pulled Louis up and into his arms with a grunt of effort. Louis let Harry push him on his back and coaxed Harry into a slow kiss. The skin-on-skin was like touching live wire, had Louis curling his leg around Harry’s hip and struggling to breathe, their mouths locked. 

“Do you want to,” Louis said, tilting his head to the side when Harry’s lips kissed down his throat, “Do you want to do it? Like, let me… you know.” 

“Don’t think I do know, no.” Harry smirked into his jaw, way too cheeky for someone who’d just had his arse spanked. Maybe Louis should go for twenty next time. Maybe keep spanking Harry until he came all over himself. 

“Do you or do you not want me to put my dick in your arse, Harold?” 

Harry let out a cute little squeak and hid his face in Louis’ chest. “Well, with a proposition like that, how can I say no?” 

“You can though,” Louis said seriously, trying really bloody hard to concentrate with Harry’s bare cock rubbing against his through the flimsy scrap of his briefs. “Like, we don’t have to. We can still get off. Just, in a different way.” 

“I want to,” Harry said, pressing his lips to Louis’ chest. “Like, I’m not really all that, um, experienced. But I want it with you.” 

Louis didn’t care how many people Harry had been with before. It didn’t take away or add to his worth as a person, but at the same time, “How, eh… inexperienced are we talking? Because I can go really slow. I just want to know, like, I want to make it good for you.” 

Harry’s face was positively burning when he raised it to look at Louis properly. “I’ve had stuff up my bum before, you know. Just… not like, actual dick.” 

Louis’ hand dropped to Harry’s lower back to press him closer, leaned up to kiss his pouting mouth. 

“It’s not like I haven’t done other stuff. I just haven’t trusted anyone enough to let them do… _that,_ ” Harry explained, as if afraid Louis was about to reject him, which couldn’t have been further from the truth. 

“And you trust me?” 

Harry smiled a little. With the curls tumbling into his face and the moonlight playing over his skin in splashes of blue, he looked like something Botticelli would have killed to paint. Louis could spend hours just looking at him. 

“Of course I do.” 

Louis pulled him into a kiss, hoped Harry could taste _I love you_ on his lips, hoping one of these days he’d stop being a bloody coward and say it to Harry’s face. 

“On your back, baby,” Louis said, eyes drinking in the heavy weight of Harry’s cock pulsing out precome on his skin. 

“You’re still not naked,” Harry complained, knees bent and spread. _Christ._ “Get naked.” 

Just the brush of fabric as he rolled his briefs over his painfully hard cock had him biting down on his tongue. How the fuck was he supposed to last? 

He threw the briefs to the ground onto the ever-growing pile of clothes there and rose to his knees. “Where do you have the stuff?”

“Left drawer,” Harry said, swollen lips parting as he took in a shaky breath. 

With the lube and a condom safely in hand, Louis crawled towards Harry and kissed him sweetly before positioning himself between his legs. 

“Gonna prep you, yeah?” 

“Okay.” 

Louis stroked up and down Harry’s slender thighs to help him relax, had to catch Harry’s wrist just as he was about to wrap his hand around his cock. “Be a good boy and don’t touch yourself.” 

Harry whined and spread his legs wider, his cock curved up to his belly. This boy would be the death of him. 

******* 

Fifteen minutes later, Louis was two fingers deep, sweating as if he were the one flat on his back being fingered. 

“Lou, please, I need… I need _more._ ” 

“Not yet.” Harry was tight and hot and slick, canting his up to meet the thrust of his fingers, his knuckles white from the tight grip he had on the sheets just so he wouldn’t touch himself. 

“You’re a tease.” 

“If you think I’m teasing you, you haven’t seen anything yet.” He trailed one fingertip down the flushed length of Harry’s cock and stretched his fingers wider inside Harry to prove his point. Harry’s belly spasmed when he brushed over his prostate, mouth dropping open on a silent moan. 

“What stuff have you had up your bum then?” Louis asked, for research purposes only. _Obviously._

“Huh?” 

Louis slid his fingers out. For a second he almost felt bad because Harry looked as if he might start crying. Then he remembered he needed more lube to step it up. “You said you had stuff up your bum before? What was it?” 

“Put your fingers back in me and I’ll tell you.” It would’ve held more weight if Harry hadn’t currently been fighting not to hump the air, curls sticking to his sweaty forehead, voice edging on desperate and needy. 

Louis rubbed Harry’s slick, red opening with his fingertips before pushing three of his fingers in slowly. Harry let out a little keening noise and stretched his arms over his head to grab onto the iron bars of the headboard. 

“Tell me now?” 

Harry licked his lips, eyes trained on the hard length of Louis’ cock swaying between his legs as if it was made of sugar, his pupils blown out. “Like, plugs and vibes and stuff. I’ve got… uh… fuck. I’ve got… a glittery one. Was a novelty gift from my friend. ‘S my favourite.” 

The thought of Harry spread open on this very bed with a thick, glittery vibrator up his bum was a bit too much for Louis to handle. He pushed his fingers in to the last knuckle, rubbed relentlessly against Harry’s prostate until he was pleading and speaking gibberish, his cock leaking so much it made Louis’ mouth water. He bent down to lick the head. _Fuck_ , Harry tasted so sweet. 

“I’m ready, please, _please_ , Louis, I’m—” 

“Okay, all right, I’ve got it.” He pulled his fingers out and wiped them on the sheets, tore the condom open with his teeth before rolling it down his length. The touch of his own hand was so good he had to close his eyes. “On your hands and knees, babe. It’ll be easier.” 

In his rush to comply, Harry almost lost balance twice. When he finally managed to get on his knees, legs spread open in silent invitation, Louis draped himself over his back, ear pressed against his back to catch the frantic thunder of Harry’s heart as he rubbed his lubed up cock over Harry’s stretched out hole. 

“Tell me if it’s too much or if you need more prep, yeah?” 

Harry just nodded, breath hitching when the head of Louis’ cock started stretching him. 

Louis kissed his shoulder blade, whispered, “Relax,” and tried to ignore the way his own thighs were shaking with how much he _wanted_. Wanted to surge in deep and feel the slap of his hipbones hitting Harry’s arse on each down-stroke. 

“Keep going,” Harry rasped out, pushing back with a deep groan. 

The moment the head of his cock popped past the rim, Harry’s body pulled him in. Louis withdrew a bit and spread Harry’s cheeks open with his thumbs to watch the way Harry’s hole clenched around his girth, all pink and slick. He pushed in deep with a growl, fingers clamped hard around the softness of Harry’s hips. 

“Fuck, yeah, so… _full._ So good.” Harry dropped his head low, panting and pushing back on Louis wantonly until he was buried to the hilt. 

“Fucking _fuck._ ” Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s body, his chest flush against Harry’s sweaty back, teeth sinking into his shoulder. 

“I’m good, I’m good, _please_ … fuck me.” 

He ground into Harry harder, slid out about an inch before he screwed back in again. Each thrust made a slick, obscene sound, Harry’s thighs shaking against his. The pressure of the tight, slick muscles squeezing around him was torture enough. But it was also _Harry._ Harry with the whimpering little noises and the way he kept wriggling and meeting his thrusts, kept spreading his legs that little bit more as though it would get him closer to Louis. Get him _fuller._ Louis had to squeeze his eyes shut before he’d become too overwhelmed. 

“Oh God, Harry, you’re so… fucking hot. Squeeze me so tight. So good for me.” 

“Am I… am I your good boy?” 

“Mine, all mine. So good.” Louis pulled out until the head was pulling at Harry’s rim, about to pop out, then took a deep breath and slammed back in so hard Harry had to grab on the headboard before his elbows buckled. 

Harry moaned, loud and deep, sweat glistening on his back like starlight on the surface of the ocean. Louis wanted to drown himself in him. Wanted Harry to fill his lungs and make home in all the empty spaces in his heart. 

“Harry, you’re so… wish you could see yourself right now. So bloody _beautiful._ ” 

Each snap of his hips punched little _uh-uh-uh_ s out of Harry’s throat, the wet spot on the sheets getting bigger and bigger from Harry’s dripping cock. 

“Ngh… ’S so good, Lou. You’re so… big. So thick. Fuck.” 

When Harry squeezed around him and used the leverage of holding onto the headboard to slam back into Louis even harder, Louis thought he would come right on the spot. He had to still Harry’s hips and draw in a ragged breath, had to pull himself out a bit and tug his balls down so he’d last longer. 

“Lou, don’t stop, _fuck_ —” 

“Lie on your belly.” 

Harry dropped down, let Louis lift his right leg up to his chest to spread him open. 

He slid back in, palms dropping on each side of Harry’s shoulders. He was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him, so open and vulnerable, giving himself over to Louis so completely, shudders zipping down his spine with each thrust inside, whimpering and moaning each time Louis hit his prostate. 

“Such a good boy,” Louis praised, saw the way his words made Harry swallow hard and wriggle back on his cock helplessly. 

“ _Please._ ” Harry bit down on the pillow, his hands twitching as though he was holding himself back from sliding between his body and the mattress to touch himself. Louis was so hard it hurt, the white hot pleasure making his muscles twitch. 

Louis coaxed Harry’s hips off the mattress again to thrust into him harder, faster, deeper, reaching around to grip the base of Harry’s cock. He didn’t think he’d ever been harder, more desperate to come, yet unwilling to make it end. 

“I need to come, Louis, _please,_ ” Harry choked out, his torso draped over the sheets and arse stuck up in the air. Louis wondered if Harry’d have bruises on his hips from how hard Louis had been gripping. Hoped he would. 

Louis slowed his hips down, staying in deep and grinding into Harry until Harry was a whimpering mess, the head of his cock slick when Louis brushed his thumb over it. “Fuck, you’re so _wet._ ” 

Harry mumbled something incoherent, something like _Louis_ and _please_ and _harder._

With a deep breath, Louis held onto Harry’s waist and started pounding him so hard the bed frame squeaked, their increasingly desperate noises and the slap of his hips against Harry’s arse like a dirty soundtrack. 

Louis felt it creep up his muscles, the liquid heat of it growing and growing and _growing_ until he felt light-headed and weak and out of control, unable to do anything but keep holding on and bite down on the inside of his cheek so hard he almost drew blood, his skin too tight. _Not yet. Not bloody yet._

“Lou, _fuck,_ ” Harry gasped, slamming back into him twice before he shuddered and cried out, hips jerking forward as he spurted onto the sheets. 

Feeling Harry come undone, the way his muscles twitched and clamped down on his cock, and seeing his mouth bitten and red, cheeks flushed, was the last straw. Louis thrust in one… two… three…four more times before his vision whited out so hard he collapsed against Harry’s back and just kept _coming_. Over-sensitised and shivering, he waited until his muscles stopped jerking before he finally managed to slide out of Harry and get rid of the condom. His legs almost buckled under him when he walked over to the bin to throw it out. 

“Fuck,” Harry said, little droplets of white streaked all the way beneath his chin. _Christ._

Louis collapsed back on the bed, wondered if his legs would ever work properly again. 

“Yeah, I’m…” His mouth wouldn’t work either. Words? What were those? Louis grunted instead and let Harry fold him up in his arms, not even caring they were both sticky with sweat and come and lube. 

“It was amazing. _You_ were amazing,” Harry whispered into his shoulder, lips lingering on his skin. 

Louis tucked Harry’s arm close against his chest and kissed his knuckles one by one. “I hope you know you’ve ruined me for anyone else.” 

“Good.” Harry snuffled against the back of his neck and Louis wanted to say so much, wanted Harry to know that Louis would ask his hand in marriage one day and that he wanted Harry’s face to be the first thing he’d see every morning for the rest of his life, but. His eyelids were heavy and Harry was warm and cozy and he couldn’t make out the words that Harry silently shaped against the nape of his neck with his mouth before sleep dragged him under. 

TBC 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very confident about writing smut, which is why it took me a bit longer to finish this one. Hope you liked it! (The next chapter will be the last. I'm not crying, you're crying.)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A massive, massive thank you to Cara aka mystardustmelody for editing this entire thing! She's the best. And an equally big thank you to all of you reading!

Louis awoke slowly, Harry’s feet curled around his under the shared duvet, his eyelids still too heavy and brain wrapped up in wool. The skin under Louis’ cheek was sleep-warm and decidedly damp. As a huff of breath stirred his hair, Louis managed to convince himself that he had definitely, probably, _not_ drooled on Harry while they’d slept. Louis did not _drool._

He took in a deep breath and grunted as he stretched his limbs, hiding his face in Harry’s neck to block out the too-bright glare of the morning. Louis let his hand wander down the velvet of Harry’s skin, softly skimming the tight muscles of his chest and stomach, _downdowndown_ until he settled on the little soft love handle above Harry’s hipbone. One of these days he’d map out every part of Harry’s body with his mouth, and catalogue Harry’s every sound and expression as he did.

“Haz?” His voice came out croaky and rough. He cleared his throat, kissed the hollow of Harry’s throat because it was right _there_ and Louis was a weak man. “You up?”

Harry smacked his lips and curled his arm around Louis’ waist tighter, but otherwise remained completely out of it.

Louis slid his hand back up the slight curve of Harry’s waist and fitted his fingers in the dents of his ribcage, his thumb smoothing over Harry’s skin. Just like the last time, Harry slept with his mouth open. Louis was overwhelmed with the urge to stick random things in it.

“Harry, you’re very naked right now. I am appalled. _Horrified,_ even.” 

Nothing.

At least Louis’ skin wasn’t nearly as tacky as he’d expected it to be. Neither was Harry’s. He must have given them both a quick wipe-down after Louis had dozed off. That had been a very, very nice thing to do. Maybe Louis should have returned the favour. Be courteous, as it were. It was only fair.

He wriggled carefully out of Harry’s hold and mouthed his way down the smooth plane of Harry’s torso, pushing the duvet down to their feet as he went. Harry’s muscles jerked under his lips, legs falling open as Louis kissed the spot beneath Harry’s belly button. He glanced up suspiciously, but Harry was as dead to the world as he’d been ten seconds ago.

“Early bird gets the worm.” Louis smirked into Harry’s belly and palmed at his hips. Harry’s V-line framed the trail of fine dark hairs leading down to his half-hard cock resting against his thigh. It was a sight to behold. Fuck, Louis was _so_ gay.

“You awake yet, pumpkin?”

Still deep asleep, Harry turned his head to the side and let out a loud snore. That was a “no,” then.

Louis settled himself between Harry’s legs and traced the crease of Harry’s hips with his mouth. Harry smelled so good Louis wanted to take a bite.

“Have I told you that you’ve got the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen? Because you do.” Louis lay Harry’s cock against his belly, opened his mouth against the base and dragged his tongue up to the head. 

Harry’s fingers twitched against the sheets.

“Have I told you that I… love you? Quite a bit.” He kissed the tip. “Maybe a lot.”

Harry’s cock jerked against his mouth and Louis wondered whether Harry’s subconscious got off on love confessions mumbled early in the morning.

Louis picked up Harry’s rapidly hardening cock, pursed his lips over the tip to give it a chaste kiss. When Harry whimpered in his sleep, his stomach quivering, Louis sank his mouth down the hot, hard length until the head bumped the back of his throat. His jaw ached with the stretch, but hearing Harry’s helpless little keen was well worth the effort.

He rubbed his tongue over the underside, his cheeks hollowing out when he sucked hard on the upstroke. Harry let out a snort so loud he’d startled himself awake, his eyes shooting open. When his brain processed what was happening he dropped his head back on the pillow with a quiet _Louis_ and tangled his fingers in Louis’ hair.

“Lou-ngh.”

Articulate. Louis would have teased him if he hadn’t had his mouth full at the moment. He pressed his open palm down on Harry’s belly to keep his hips from canting up, and sank down, low enough to feel the tip graze the back of his throat again. He pursed his lips tightly around the girth and sucked his way up, letting Harry’s cock slip out of his mouth with a filthy _pop_ , hard and spit-slick. Harry had propped himself up on his elbows to watch and was now looking at Louis almost star-struck, panting for breath. 

Louis hid his face in Harry’s hip and nibbled at the jut of Harry’s hipbone. His affection for the boy lying beneath him filled his ribcage, stretched it to the point of pain. “Good morning, Curly.”

“Good… very good morning.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Couldn’t help myself.”

Harry coaxed him up with his fingers still knotted in his hair and brushed their closed mouths in a chaste kiss. “Not complaining.”

The muffled melody of Marimba sounded somewhere on the floor.

“Fucking technology,” Louis muttered, frowning. The bloody universe just wouldn't quit trying to keep his hands away from Harry’s glorious cock.

“I’ll get it.” Harry wriggled from under Louis and bent over the edge of bed to grab Louis’ jeans off the floor. The way sunlight bounced off the curve of Harry’s bum was, in Louis’ opinion, much more important than a phone call, so he crawled towards Harry and caressed the bum in question. Harry dropped the jeans, almost fell off the bed and brained himself.

“No. Bad Louis.” Harry twisted away and tossed the jeans at Louis’ head.

“Someone up there hates me.” Louis fished the phone out of the front pocket with a pout and imagined all the ways he could debauch Harry once he was done. Harry shuffled closer to him, the heat of his body sinking into Louis’ side, the press of Harry’s lips on his neck making him dizzy.

“On your back,” Harry whispered into Louis’ ear as he hit the accept button. A firm hand in the centre of Louis’ chest pushed him back against the mattress.

“Hello?” Louis asked, his breath hitching when Harry fisted Louis’ cock and smirked like the devil Louis was sure he secretly was. After all, no one’s lips were naturally _that_ colour.

“Sorry, what?” he repeated, because all he’d heard was the rush of his own blood in his ears. All he could feel were Harry’s eyelashes tickling his belly as he peppered his skin with open-mouthed kisses.

“Louis? Is that… is that you?”

“Um, yeah? Considering you’re the one calling me, you should… _fuck_ … know that, mate.” Harry’s lips were made of honey and sin, red and damp and plush as he trailed down and rubbed them over the head of Louis’ cock.

“Is this a wrong time to call or… did Jo tell you I called?”

By the time realisation struck, Harry was sinking down his length with a challenge in his eyes and a hand twisting around what he couldn’t swallow. Harry _moaned,_ a string of saliva trickling down to Louis’ balls.

“I… uh.” He covered the mouthpiece, breath hitching in his throat when Harry’s stretched lips met his fist then went even further down.

“Louis?”

He had half a mind to say _fuck yeah, it’s me, and my cock’s down my boyfriend’s throat so if you could kindly bugger off and never call again, that’d be wicked._ He wanted to shove it in Troy’s face, wanted him to be shocked and appalled and call Louis something bloody awful, but. Harry looked up at him through sleep-heavy eyelids and thumbed at his hipbone almost reverently. Troy wasn’t even worth it. Didn’t deserve to know anything about him.

“No offence, but I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t know what mum told you, but,” he took in a sharp breath, hissed when Harry sucked his way up and let Louis slip out of his mouth, “I don’t. I hardly even _know_ you.”

“I’m sorry,” sounded the other voice. “I messed up and I’m sorry and I just want to—”

“It’s all about you, isn’t it? Always has been. About what _you_ want.” Louis rubbed his free hand over his eyes. Harry watched him carefully, big hands spread over his bare thighs. “What about what I want? What about all the years you didn’t give a shit?”

He was definitely going soft now. Fucking Troy.

“Louis, look, can we just… start over? Just let me,” Troy said, sounding tired and contrite, “let me be a part of your life.”

And like… _fuck._ Louis barely resisted the urge to scream into the pillow, to smash something against a wall, because… a small part of him wanted to say yes. Out of guilt, maybe. It didn’t even matter. He was older and wiser than he’d been all those years ago when he’d sat around by the front window, waiting for Troy to come back. “If you really cared, you’d let me make the first step. Not this… this bullshit of a guilt trip you’re forcing on me.”

“It’s not—” Troy cut himself off. “How much time do you want me to give you?”

“A month? A year? A bloody decade? I don’t know, do I? I just know I don’t want to talk to you right now.” Maybe never.

The silence on the other end stretched on, until, “It just got to be too much, you know. It’s why I left. I couldn’t handle it, and that’s no excuse, but… if I could turn it back, I would.”

“Tough luck,” Louis bit off, clenching his jaw so hard his teeth hurt, “because I wouldn’t.” With that, he pressed the ‘end call’ button and flung the phone on the mattress.

Harry’s lips pressed into his thigh before he crawled up his body, his weight pushing Louis into the bed. “Morning cuddles?”

Throat too tight, Louis just shrugged, letting Harry wrap himself around Louis like a human koala. If his eyes got a bit wet when Harry kissed his jaw, he told himself it’d be the only moment of weakness he’d let himself have.

*******

Out of all the scenarios Louis had expected to walk into once he got back to the flat, this one didn’t even rank on his list. A half naked Zayn wasn’t that unusual a sight. Neither was him making coffee in the kitchen. It was the dishevelled Perrie dragging herself out of Zayn’s bedroom in nothing but a too-big superhero T-shirt and a pair of socks that almost had his jaw hitting the floor.

“Oh, hey Louis,” she said, yawning into her hand.

“Hi?” He blinked and forced himself to move towards his room to give them some privacy as Niall strode out of Zayn’s bedroom and almost knocked Louis over.

“Oh, Lou, hi! You’re back early.” His face went red. Louis doubted it was because his very naked penis had just pretty much touched Louis.

“What the fuck.” Louis’ mouth-to-brain filter had always worked excellently. He also couldn’t seem to close his mouth.

Niall rubbed the back of his neck, going from red to an alarming shade of purple. “Um.”

“Want some coffee, Lou?” Zayn called from the kitchen.

“No, I do not want bloody coffee!” He ruffled Niall’s already messed up hair out of habit and walked over to the sofa, sitting down in a daze. “Have I just walked into an orgy in progress?”

Niall snuck off to his own room with a quiet click of the door and an excuse of “need a shower” as Perrie joined Louis on the couch. “Nah. That was an hour ago. And last night.”

“What do you… are you like, in a polyamorous… thing now?”

“It was just sex.” She relaxed into the sofa. “Very good sex, but still.” She leaned in closer to Louis, her hair tangled up. Louis briefly wondered whose hands made it look like that then shook himself out of it, because _nope._ “Think they’re more into each other than me. It was fun though. The hottest bloke on bloke action I’ve ever seen.”

“Do we have bleach?” Louis called out. “I need to scrub the visual from my brain!”

“Fuck off!” Zayn called back before he emerged from the kitchen with two cups of coffee and a bottle of beer.

“You and I,” Louis mouthed at him, “are going to talk. Later.”

With that, he left the two of them in the living room and brought out his phone to text Harry. He’d never believe this.

*******

“So,” Louis said, clearing his throat, watching Zayn blow smoke out of the corner of his mouth. “you two. Doing stuff. Together.”

Zayn side-eyed Niall, who was sitting on the rickety old table on the patio with a guitar in his lap, and shrugged. “It was all right.”

Louis had known Zayn for years. “All right” did not mean _all right._ It was either the code for future wallowing, or a very badly repressed blossoming obsession. Louis wasn’t sure which would be worse. 

“All right?” Niall repeated, brows furrowed. “I thought it was better than all right.”

Zayn took another puff, tilted his head back and closed his eyes as he let the smoke curl into the air. “Thought you were straight, babe.”

Niall squirmed on the table, his idle strumming faltering. Louis just leaned against the brick wall of the building and hoped this wouldn’t explode in all their faces.

“Boobs are the craic,” Niall said. Zayn’s fingers twitched around the cigarette. “But… I liked it. With you, and shit. Didn’t think I would be into it _that_ much, but I _was._ ”

“Charming,” Louis mumbled under his breath, refusing to wilt under Niall’s very unusual glare. 

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, yeah?” Niall admitted, fingers gripping the neck of his guitar as though he wanted to strangle it. “Like, you two are all up on snogging blokes in general and… I only,” he raked his fingers through his hair, the tips of his ears turning red. “The only bloke I want to snog is Zayn.” 

When Zayn almost choked on the smoke and his disgustingly fond eyes locked on Niall, Louis kind of wished he could melt into the ground and disappear. He could only sit there and hope he’d go unnoticed. And that they wouldn’t start shagging right in front of him. As much as he’d have fancied a free show, he preferred not to be mentally scarred much more. 

“I liked snogging you too and,” Zayn said, eyes flicking to Louis, “stuff.” 

Subtle. Very subtle. Louis did _not_ entertain the thought of what “stuff” entailed. Nope. 

“So, what the fuck does that mean?” Louis asked, because he could never keep quiet for too long. With a herd of loud sisters, it was kind of a requirement. “Because I love you two and I really don’t want to see you hurt.” 

“Oh, Loueh,” Zayn cooed, striding over to press a nicotine-laced kiss to Louis’ forehead. “Don’t worry, yeah? We’ll figure it out.” 

Louis just sighed. 

“Do you like me then?” Niall asked suddenly, cheeks so red he’d have blended in with a stop sign. “As in, _like_ me?” 

Zayn stubbed out the cigarette and trained what Louis called Zayn’s laser-stare-of-sexiness right on the unsuspecting Niall. The poor lad didn’t stand a chance. 

“I do,” Zayn said, not walking but _prowling_ towards Niall. “Do you?” 

“I’m… I’m Zayn-sexual, I reckon.” 

“All right,” Zayn said as if that was all Niall had needed to say. He then bopped each of Niall’s nipples and poked his belly button in some weird mating ritual Louis had never seen before. Must have worked on Niall though, because his fingers slipped down the guitar strings in an out-of-tune melody and he dragged Zayn into a steamy kiss with his free hand. 

“I’m just gonna… go,” Louis said, almost tripping in his haste to leave the patio before he could see their tongues going at it for longer than necessary. He barely stepped inside the flat when he heard a big crash right behind his back, followed by a string of Irish curses. There may have been some Spanish ones mixed in as well. He spun around. 

Niall lay on the ground in the wreckage of the old table, his guitar squished in between him and Zayn. 

“Zayn broke the table,” Niall said. 

Louis started laughing so hard he almost lost his footing. 

Maybe they’d all be all right after all. 

******* 

As it had happened for most of his life, Louis’ mouth went off before his brain could catch up. He didn’t even know what had possessed him. He was just casually sitting on Harry’s sofa, seeking refuge from the celebratory shagging going on at his flat due to Niall landing an internship at Sony and Zayn’s exhibition having gone really well. 

Harry was just dancing around the living room like an idiot, his long lean limbs flailing around without any rhythm whatsoever and Louis just felt full of this _feeling._ Completely filled to the brim with it, as Harry spun around in a wobbly pirouette, almost knocking the newest cat figurine off the shelf. 

“Fuck, I love you.” 

The music kept going and the Elvis vinyl kept spinning but Harry staggered to a stop, his eyes wide. “You—” 

“I love you. A lot,” Louis said, tilting his chin up, because what the hell. He’d been gone for this boy ever since he’d first seen him enter the room, and everyone in the bloody world could tell, he was sure. Well, everyone except Harry, it seemed. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you and, like, one day I think I’m going to ask to marry you.” 

“Lou—” His mouth turned down, bottom lip quivering suspiciously as it did every time they stopped in front of a pet store and Harry knew he couldn’t bring all the kittens and puppies back to his flat. 

Louis pulled the sleeves of his sweater over his hands, dropping his gaze to the floor. “Maybe I shouldn’t hav—” The weight of Harry tackling him into the sofa knocked the words out of his mouth. “Harr—” 

“I,” he pressed his lips to Louis’, mouth soft and open and insistent, “love,” he tugged at Louis’ bottom lip with his teeth, nibbled at it, “you. So much. And for the record,” he smiled against Louis’ mouth, “If you do, I think I’ll say yes.” 

“Thank _fuck,_ ” he mumbled, rubbing his nose against Harry’s in an Eskimo kiss. Niall had been right. They _were_ disgusting. Lucky for Louis, he could now say the same about his flatmates. “Otherwise this would have been really awkward.” He pushed Harry’s tee up to his waist so he could touch the smoothness of his lower back. 

Harry giggled, his cheek pressed against Louis’. “Thought I was being pretty obvious about it.” 

“So did I!” 

“We’re idiots.” 

“Guess we were made for each other then,” Louis said with a shrug, nudging his lips against Harry’s again. He looked positively delighted once he pulled back. 

“And you say _I’m_ sappy.” 

“What can I say? You’re a bad influence.” He patted Harry’s perky little bum. “Maybe I should leave before I start composing songs for you.” 

__“Too late for that. You _love_ me.” He smiled his wide, close-lipped smile, the cheeky bastard that he was. “I like ballads, by the way.”_ _

“Why, you little—” He pinched his bum, squeaked when Harry wrapped his limbs around him like an overly affectionate octopus. “I can play piano? A little bit.” 

“I will happily accept that.” 

“How gracious of you,” Louis said, closing his eyes at the touch of Harry’s lips on his neck. 

“I love you.” Harry nuzzled into him further and let out a contented little sigh. 

“I love you so fucking much. Gonna tell you a hundred times a day from now on. Hope you don’t mind.” 

“I don’t mind at all,” Harry said, kissing Louis’ jaw with a lingering press of his smiling mouth. 

Louis held him close and knew. Knew that the world was a scary fucking place and he’d have to grow up eventually, find an internship and a job and deal with his father and all the fears of not knowing where his place in the world was, but. He could do it all if he had Harry by his side. Because for all the times Harry had made him feel weak in the knees, vulnerable and raw and open to hurt, in the end, he was what made Louis strong. 

THE END 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S OVER, FUCK. I really loved writing this one and your comments made it so, so worthwhile!
> 
> So, what do you say about a one-shot sequel (a 'year after' kind of thing)? Yay or nay??


	10. EPILOGUE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sequel is finally here fuck yes!!! Almost 13k of fluff and smut. I'm not even sorry.
> 
> Thank you Cara aka mystardustmelody for betaing!! :)

Part I

A day off. No classes. No internship. Fucking _finally_. Nothing in the world could spoil Harry’s mood right now. Not the empty banana bowl in the kitchen, not the persistent throbbing in his lower back caused by slaving over a stack of pro bono cases in a dusty research room, not the lack of Louis for another two hours. Well, maybe the last bit.

He stared down at the shower drain as hot water pounded against his tense muscles, sluiced down his half-hard cock. 

Definitely the last bit.

He propped his forearm against the tiled wall and rested his forehead against it. He could make it through another hour. He _could_. Even though they’d skipped morning blowjobs because both of them had slept through Louis’ alarm clock. 

He bit down on his arm to centre himself and shut the water off, shook it out of his hair like a dog. If Louis was here with him, he’d have darted out of the way with a squeal, then deny he’d ever made such a sound.

Was it normal to still be so infatuated with one’s future spouse 363 days after their first kiss? Not that Harry was counting or anything. He’d just always been a natural with numbers, all right? All right.

He walked out of the bathroom, naked save for the fluffy towel wrapped around his head and dripping water all over the bedroom floor. He bent down to pick up a trail of haphazardly discarded clothing, which Louis had chucked there in a mad search to get dressed in the morning, and threw them in the hamper. 

For a moment he just stood there and smiled. 

Louis was all his.

*******

He was just putting his folded up yoga mat under the bed, limbs loose and light, the pain in his back a barely-there twinge, when he heard a vague buzzing sound. Fuck. His _phone._ The clock on the wall said Louis should have been home roughly fifteen minutes ago.

He dived on the bed and swiped the screen with a breathless, “Lou?”

“Finally,” Louis said, relieved, “Let me in, Harold, I am starving!”

Not dead or lying in a ditch somewhere then. Harry could stop having a heart attack now. Cool. He scrambled up to his feet, almost dizzy with relief. “Don’t you have your keys, baby?”

“I forgot them at my desk.” Harry could hear the pout in Louis’ voice and tried not to melt right into the floorboards. “Please come get me, I’m sitting at the curb. Nobody’s been picking up their phone and I’m lonely and I need cereal.”

“All right, stay where you are, I’ll be right there,” he said, one-handedly struggling to put his jeans on. He would have succeeded if his foot didn’t catch on the crotch seam. He saw it before it even happened. He tripped and tumbled down to the floor in a weird half-twirl, his limbs flailing, the phone flying out of his hand. Thank God it landed on the mattress.

“I’m okay!” he called out as he sprang back up to his feet, hoping Louis had heard him.

He didn’t suffer any other accident on his mad dash down the stairs, jeans still unbuttoned and flip-flops on. When he unlocked the front door of the flat building and squinted against the autumn sun, he spotted a pair of middle-aged women blinking at his half-naked form from the sidewalk.

He gave an awkward wave and smiled his widest smile. “Um, hi!”

“I need Cocoa Puffs!” was all Harry heard right before Louis bounded up the stairs and crashed right into his arms. “Help.”

“Hi.” Harry pecked his lips once, twice, three times, lingering on the fourth and adding a quick bum squeeze, any onlookers forgotten. Louis tasted like gummy bears he must have filched from one of the six-year-olds in his class and Harry wanted to stand there for a bit longer just to kiss him. First things first though. “Let’s get you some then.”

“I had to sit outside for seventeen minutes. I shall get my cereal, but there will be no getting some for you, love.” Louis nibbled his way up to Harry’s ear and bit down on his earlobe, the bastard. Getting some was all Harry could think of now. 

“I’m sorry. Was exercising.” He rucked up Louis’ jacket and T-shirt to touch warm skin. “Didn’t have my phone near me.” 

“And now he’s teasing me,” Louis whined and walked Harry past the threshold. “You were doing yoga naked again, weren’t you, you naughty boy?”

“H-how do you,” Louis suckled at the spot behind his ear, fucking _fuck,_ “know?”

Louis arched his eyebrow and slid his hand down Harry’s bare torso, fingertips dragging over the butterfly tattooed on his stomach, trailing _downdowndown_ until he reached the waistband, and tugged at the pubic hair peeking out from Harry’s undone jeans. “A wild guess.”

Harry couldn’t string together a coherent sentence if he tried. He could only swallow hard and whimper when Louis stepped out of his arms and brushed past him to walk up the stairs. He was almost at the top when Harry realised he hadn’t moved an inch because he’d been watching the sway of Louis’ hips.

“Come on, babycakes, we don’t have all day!” Louis called over his shoulder, disappearing from view. Harry tried to lock the front door so quickly he dropped the bloody keys twice.

His flip-flops slapped on the concrete as he carefully caught up to Louis. The stairs were short and steep and Harry’s feet were a couple sizes too big, so he held onto the wrought-iron banister, eyes flicking up to stare at Louis’ bum for far shorter than he would have liked in order to avoid falling down and braining himself. 

“Hurry!”

Once they made it to the third floor, he wrapped his arm around Louis’ waist from behind, bodies flush as he kissed the nape of his neck. “Here we go,” he said and reached over to unlock the flat with his free hand.

They stumbled in together, Harry’s back slamming the door closed when Louis twisted around in his arms to push him against it, kissing him until his lips were tingling.

“You smell like that new citrusy shower gel I bought you,” Louis said, rubbing his scruffy face against Harry’s sensitive neck. “I will have to investigate this later.”

He flounced away, leaving Harry slumped against the door with his cock straining against his jeans. There was something about Louis dressed in his work clothes that had Harry weak in the knees and wanting to call him “Mister Tomlinson”. It was the black dress jacket. Must have been. In combination with his scoop-neck black T-shirt and obscenely tight jeans, Harry never stood a chance. He was still in his last year of uni and Louis was a proper _teacher_ and it just… did things to him.

“Why are you still standing there, babe?” Louis popped out of the bathroom with his hands and face scrubbed clean.

“I’m… um… Lou, do you know there’s a yellow hand print on your bum?” Harry asked as he kicked off his flip-flops and padded up to Louis on the polished wooden floor. 

“What?”

Harry just grinned and patted Louis’ left bum cheek. When Louis twisted around to look over his shoulder, he started cursing like a sailor. “Fucking Jimmy! Must have been him, that little bugger. That kid is so—”

“Like you?”

“How very dare you,” Louis said, one indignant eyebrow raised. “So _this_ is why people kept staring at me on the tube. Bollocks.”

Harry just muffled his laughter in Louis’ shoulder.

“You laugh it up, Curly. I see how it is.” He rose up on his tippy toes to whisper in Harry’s ear, “You’re just begging for a good spanking.”

Harry bit down on his lip and rubbed his cheek against Louis’ temple. They’d gotten up to 89 slaps before he couldn’t help but come. He wanted to make it to a hundred.

“Later,” Louis said with a teasing lick to the shell of Harry’s ear and disappeared into the bedroom. _Their bedroom._ In their _shared flat._ Harry was the luckiest man in the world.

Louis emerged, dressed in grey trackies and Harry’s old, long-sleeved henley, and headed straight to the kitchen. Harry realised Louis could have been wearing a bin liner and Harry would still have wanted to climb him like a tree. It wasn’t the jacket. It was all Louis. Louis, who was currently dancing around the kitchen barefoot, singing the _Grease_ masterpiece _You’re The One That I Want_ to a box of Cocoa Puffs.

“I love you so much,” Harry said, and sat down on the wooden chair to watch him.

Louis winked at him and started singing, “Cereal for me! Cereal for me!” then yelled out, “Big up to Cocoa Puffs!” before shaking a couple handfuls out into a bowl.

Harry propped his chin up on the palm of his hand and smiled, not even annoyed that when Louis finally poured milk over his cereal and sat down opposite him, he spilled a little bit of it on a freshly washed tablecloth. It was the one with little daisies on it that Harry had had back at his aunt’s flat last year. Louis had bent Harry over this very tablecloth more than once and eaten him out with the same gusto he was now devouring his cereal. He even moaned the same. Harry wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or offended.

Louis smiled at him with his round cheeks and patted the spot over his heart with the palm of his right hand.

“What does it mean?” Harry asked, because some days Louis would come home and teach him something new he’d learned at the classes for special ed kids he had twice a week. 

“Mine,” Louis replied, even though he hadn’t swallowed completely and Harry could definitely see the bits of half-chewed soggy cereal in his mouth. There was something bloody wrong with Harry for finding that endearing rather than disgusting. 

Harry signed ‘I love you’ and nudged Louis’ feet beneath the table, remembering how he’d sucked Louis off with his hands gripping the edge the second day after they’d moved in together, on a mission to christen every sturdy available surface in the flat. 

‘I love you too,’ Louis signed back, trapping Harry’s ankle between his bare feet and rubbing his foot up Harry’s calf. Since Louis held firm to his belief that socks were evil, his feet were almost always cold. Harry bent down to pick them up and put them in his lap, rubbing warmth back into them.

“Am I forgiven yet?” Harry asked, rubbing the tension out of Louis’ insteps.

“Don’t know,” Louis said, slurping milk into his mouth. “Keep doing that.”

“I’m sorry! Please, forgive me!” Harry wailed, screwed his face up in a mock crying grimace until Louis finally gave in and cracked up.

“You’re silly.” He dug his heel into Harry’s thigh. “Can we watch Gogglebox and cuddle?”

“Okay,” Harry said, beaming.

*******

Sometimes Louis would go pliant and sleepy and make little snuffling sounds into Harry’s chest when they cuddled. He’d always deny this was the case, of course, because _no, Harold, naps are for the weak,_ so Harry had learned not to mention it and to play with the hair at the nape of his neck instead. Today was not one of those days.

When Louis shifted around with a huff for about the tenth time in a minute, Harry ran his hand down Louis’ spine and asked, “You all right?”

“I want to tell you something, but I can’t, and it’s driving me bonkers,” Louis admitted, sharp teeth nipping at Harry’s collarbones.

Harry’s hand stilled. “Why not?”

“Because it’s supposed to be a surprise!” Louis folded his arms over Harry’s chest and propped his chin there, looking at Harry face to face and _pouting,_ of all things. Harry was so weak.

“Then don’t tell me?” He resumed rubbing Louis’ back and relaxed back into the sofa. That was, until Louis sat up on his lap and whacked him on the chest with a pillow. Twice. He should probably have worn more than just boxers and a well-worn T-shirt. Maybe a ski gear. It might have lessened his urge to hold Louis down and grind into him. Then again, probably not.

“But I want to! That’s the whole issue.” Louis had had no time to style his hair in the morning and it fell softly into his face and all Harry could think of was burying his fingers in it, even though Louis was frowning at him as he did every time they ran out of tea and Harry had forgotten to buy more. “You’re supposed to try to get it out of me! What is wrong with you?”

“But,” Harry said, playing with the hem of Louis’ henley, “think how much better it’ll be when you finally get to tell me?”

Louis just sighed, long and loud, and wriggled his hips. His T-shirt was threadbare and see-through from constant use, the curve of his waist backlit by the sun streaming in through the windows. He didn’t even seem real. “You’re no fun.”

“You sure about that?” Harry asked, gripping Louis’ hips and twisting them around to trap Louis beneath him, needing to feel him so bad. He was pretty proud of himself for not tumbling to the floor like the last time he’d tried to do this on the sofa. “Do you want me to tickle it out of you then? Don’t think I won’t.”

Rather than answering, Louis stretched Harry’s _Rolling Stones_ T-shirt tight across his chest and smirked.

“What?” Harry glanced down at his chest then back at Louis again. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason,” Louis said before pinching Harry’s nipples, grinning so hard his eyes crinkled at the edges. “I love you. You and your perpetually hard nipples.”

“Lou,” Harry groaned and hid his face in Louis’s shoulder. Partly because he was embarrassed and partly because Louis smelled like home.

When Louis snuck a hand under Harry’s T-shirt to rub his left nipple, the groan Harry let out was of a decidedly different nature. 

“How much time do we have before the lads get here?” Louis asked, pinching Harry’s nipple gently then moving onto the other one, teasing him relentlessly. Pulling and rubbing and pinching and _squeezing._ Harry’s thoughts fizzled out, every brush of Louis’ deft fingers making his skin taut and sensitive enough to make him shiver all over.

It took Harry a second to process the question, to stop wriggling his hips in the cradle of Louis’ strong thighs for long enough to make his brain work properly. “Don’t… don’t know. A while? I hope.”

“Okay, good.” Louis slid his hand out and wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist to pull him flush against his body. “What are you waiting for? Kiss me, you fool.”

Harry was more than happy to oblige. He fumbled up Louis’ jaw blindly until their lips brushed together, slotting and parting again with a slick sound and a sizzle of electricity that sparked all the way down to Harry’s toes. He wondered if it’d always be like this. If each time he’d kiss Louis and have the taste of him on the tip of his tongue, he’d feel like he was kissing him for the first time again. New and exciting and so, _so_ hungry for more. 

He tilted his head to the side and opened his mouth, let Louis’s tongue lick over the roof of his upper lip and into his mouth before Harry suckled at Louis’ tongue gently. He couldn’t imagine wanting to kiss anyone else ever again.

“Haz,” Louis whispered, thighs tightening around his hips, hands fisting the back of Harry’s T-shirt before he surged up to kiss him again, quick and deep as if he couldn’t even help it. 

When Harry pulled away to breathe he noticed Louis’ henley had folded up over his belly button from their wriggling, his cheeks flushed and lips swollen. He was spread open. Vulnerable. So fucking beautiful Harry couldn’t stop staring like a lovesick idiot.

“How are you so,” Harry gulped, left a trail of kisses down Louis’ arched throat. His skin was like melted sugar. “So… gorgeous. Bloody fit.”

Harry loved the little half-strangled whimper in the back of Louis’ throat when he sealed his lips over Louis’ pulse and sucked hard. 

“Bet I look like a mess right now,” Louis said, voice breaking on the last syllable. “Thanks to you.”

“I like you messy,” Harry said, pulled away so he could watch the glide of his hand over Louis’ quivering belly. “Want to drip honey all over your cock and lick it off.”

“ _Christ._ ” He rolled Harry’s T-shirt up to his armpits, helping him get it off. “Don’t think there’s any honey left.”

Harry sat back on his haunches and tugged at the drawstring on Louis’ trackies, let his knuckles brush over the wet spot at the front. “Still want to suck you off anyway.”

Louis threw his arm over his head and thrust his hips up with a smirk curving his kiss-swollen mouth. The effect was somewhat ruined by the flush on his cheeks, the breathless quality to his voice when he said, “Come and get it then. It won’t suck itself.”

“I don’t know,” Harry said with a thoughtful purse of his lips and grabbed Louis’ hips to pull his bum over his lap. “You’ve gotten quite flexible.”

Louis giggled and threw a pillow at Harry’s face. “Twat.”

“I reckon I could. At least get the tip in.” He shoved Louis’ trackies down and under his bum, watched his cock slap over his belly and tried not to feel smug when Louis’ mouth dropped open on a moan.

“ _Shit,_ Harry. Don’t say that or I’ll—”

“What?” He fisted Louis’ length and rubbed his thumb over the spot right under the head that always made Louis squirm and jerk in his hold. “Don’t think I can?”

“Stop _teasing._ Ngh—” Harry opened his mouth to let saliva dribble down over the head of Louis’ cock and smoothed it down with two tight tugs. Louis’ thighs squeezed his waist to the point of pain. “Can I… can I come to your class tomorrow?”

“Obviously,” Harry said, because any time Louis came to watch him, he always tried just that little bit harder to do his best. Sneaking glances of Louis’s bum when he was in the downward dog position made it all that much better. “Think Liam’s there tomorrow as well.”

“Ugh,” Louis said, canting his hips into Harry’s touch. “Can you not mention Payno right now? You’re killing my buzz here, love.”

Harry scooted down on the couch and bit Louis’ hipbone, sucked a bruise there just so he could press his fingers into it later tonight and know he was the one who had left it there. “This better?” He pulled Louis into his mouth slowly, had to close his eyes and palm himself over his pants. He loved the stretch of it, the ache in his jaw and the pulsing weight of Louis on his tongue, the way Louis knotted his fingers in his hair just enough to border on the right side of painful.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this. What a good boy.”

Harry let out an involuntary whine. It was completely out of his hands at this point.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

“Open the door, lovebirds!”

Harry snapped up and met Louis’ panicked eyes. Well, _fuck._

“You better not be shagging in there!” Niall’s positively gleeful voice sounded through the door.

Harry climbed off Louis so fast he almost knocked his knee into the coffee table.

“Buggering, fucking _fuck,_ ” Louis muttered as they tried to sort themselves out the best they could.

Harry threw on the discarded T-shirt and hurried to open the door before Niall could decide to call out any more inappropriate things. Their closest neighbour was an 87-year-old lady who was half deaf, but Harry didn’t want to risk it. He quite liked their weekly baking dates together, so… He opened the door and ushered Niall, Zayn and Liam in with a hiss of, “Can you please keep it down?”

Zayn arched his eyebrow and threw his arm over Niall’s shoulders. “Can you?” The amused once-over with a deliberate glance at Harry’s tented crotch had all the blood rushing to his face in two seconds flat.

“We were just… um.”

“How did you even get inside the building?” Louis came to the rescue, his hand resting on Harry’s lower back. It wasn’t helping with Harry’s pants situation _at all._

“This ginger kid let us in,” Niall said, and bopped Harry’s nose on his way to park his arse on the sofa. “Is it safe to sit here?”

“Unfortunately,” Louis sighed, stealing Liam’s hat while he was too distracted trying not to stare at either Harry or Louis for too long out of misguided sense of courtesy. They’d all been friends for months now, once Liam and Zayn had got over the awkwardness of the kiss. Niall still laughed his arse off every time someone mentioned it, mostly because Liam had been dating his girlfriend since sixth form and Zayn was so smitten with Niall at this point that it was disgusting to watch. Zayn had even picked Niall’s nose for him last week. Harry was still disturbed.

“Hey!” Liam reached out to get his hat back, but Louis was too quick, darting out of the way just in time. Only, Louis didn’t count on Zayn swiping in and taking it away from him with exactly zero effort before planting the hat back on Liam’s head. 

“I’ve been betrayed by my best mate,” Louis said dramatically, covering his face with his hands as he pretended to cry.

“I ordered pizza!” Niall called out just as Zayn pulled Louis tight against his side and kissed him on his temple. If Harry tugged at the back of Louis’ hastily thrown on henley to get his attention, well. That was completely unrelated.

“I’ve got beer,” Liam said and lifted two six-packs in his hands.

“Knew I liked you for a reason,” Louis said and took one off his hands. Then promptly turned around and deposited it in Harry’s arms, beaming. “Put them in the fridge, baby?”

As if Harry could say no to anything when Louis called him “baby”. “Of course.”

“You two are so cute together,” Niall said, his chin propped up on the back of the sofa as he watched at them. 

“Thanks!” Louis beamed, scuttling over to the sofa and leaping over the backrest to tackle Niall with a violent hug. Niall looked like Christmas had come early. Harry could relate, and had to forcibly take his eyes away from Louis so he could go put the beer in the fridge. Louis was so bright and magnetic that sometimes Harry felt as if he’d lived his life in muted colours until the day he met him.

It wasn’t long before arms wrapped around his waist just as he was bending over to put the beers in the fridge. It would have been romantic if Louis hadn’t ground his half-hard cock into his arse.

“Do you know what tomorrow is?”

Harry snorted, straightened up so he could turn around to look at his boyfriend properly. Did he _know?_ He’d had the date marked in his calendar with heart-eyed emojis and kisses for months. So yeah, he did know. “Maybe. Do _you?_ ”

“Mm,” Louis hummed noncommittally before he pulled Harry into a filthy, open-mouthed kiss by the back of his neck. He had to lean against the fridge to keep his knees from growing too weak. “Might do. Hypothetically.”

“So, hypothetically,” Harry started, slipped his hand under Louis’ shirt to caress the dip of his lower back, “We might do something to commemorate the occasion?”

“And what would you have us do?” Louis asked, mouth pressing short kisses down Harry’s neck before resting against his collarbones. “Hypothetically speaking.”

“Can we… can we see how long we can snog without stopping? Break a world record? That would be _sick._ ” It might have been an excuse to get Louis into bed just so Harry could snog him for hours on end. Until their lips hurt and their breath synced up, so wired up that breaking apart for even a second would seem impossible.

“Love,” Louis wrapped his arms around him tight, warm and strong and steadying, “I think we’ve probably broken that record a few times over by now.”

Louis’ back was warm and smooth and right above the tempting swell of the world’s number one bum, so if Harry’s pinkie dipped beneath the edge of his trackies, that was very much a happy accident. “Maybe there’s a record for breaking a record several times over? We should try that. Get someone to officiate it all and give us the plaque.” 

“Is that what you want?” Louis tugged at what he loved to call Harry’s “springy bits”, his thumb grazing the shell of Harry’s ear. Harry had trouble getting his thoughts back on track. His hand slipped down, low enough to fully cup the firm roundness of Louis’ bare bum cheek beneath his trackies. “Ah… Have someone watch?”

He pulled Louis forward, bent down a little to press his lips against Louis’ jaw. “On second thought, no. I’d rather have you all to myself.”

“Getting jealous there, Styles?” Louis asked, so fond Harry’s lips twitched into an involuntary smile. “I’ve got something planned already anyway.”

“The surprise?” Harry grinned so hard his face actually hurt a little.

“That, and you can request anything you want from me. A Louis voucher, one might say. Sexual or not, it’s your choice.” Louis pulled at his hair, pressed up against his body impossibly close. Harry’s blood was sizzling under his skin, the cotton of Louis’ trackies turning itchy against his bare legs, but. It gave him an idea.

“Lou?” He sounded half-strangled even to his own ears, cheeks burning.

“Harry,” Louis said with a teasing quirk of his eyebrow. He seemed quite proud of the little huff of a laugh he’d got in return.

“Will you maybe… will you put on my yoga leggings? Just, like, for a bit?”

“Hmm.” He ran his hand down Harry’s spine, made him shiver as he dipped just beneath the waistband of his pants. “Any particular reason why you want _that?_ ”

Harry’s teeth left little red indents in the curve of Louis’ neck, warm breath puffing over damp skin as he said, “Just want to check something real quick, pal.”

He was the epitome of casual. Cool as a cucumber. The little whimper he was trying to choke back at the thought of Louis’ bum in tight black leggings was nothing but a fluke.

“Then I reckon I could, bro.”

Harry giggled into Louis’ neck, his entire body leaning into Louis and _fuck._ He had to go back into the living room in a minute and pretend he _wasn’t_ thinking about bending Louis over the edge of the couch, peeling leggings under his bum and spreading him open enough to lick his way inside and turn Louis into a helpless, quivering mess.

“Lou,” he whined, the friction of Louis’ hips grinding into his making his head all fuzzy.

“Fuck, Harry, you’re getting me all wet again.” Louis grabbed Harry’s free hand and pressed it right over the growing wet spot at the front of his trackies. “Gonna have to change.” His tongue flicked out to brush over the seam of Harry’s lips, retreated just as Harry was about to suckle on it. _Mean._

“Gonna have to change into something a little less grey and a little more,” he bit the edge of Harry’s jaw, shivered when Harry curved his hand around his cock, “black.”

And, oh. _Oh._ Fuck.

“Can you two stop doing whatever you’re doing in there and bring us some snacks already? You’ve been there for _ages_!” Liam called.

“Have you quite finished?” Louis called back and reluctantly untangled himself from Harry’s arms. “We’ll be right there!”

To Harry, he whispered, “Bring them those snacks while I get changed, will you, love?” 

Harry could only nod dumbly and watch Louis rush through the living room with a quick excuse of, “need to piss!” before disappearing in their bedroom.

He had to walk over to the kitchen sink and splash his face with cold water. Repeatedly.

Part II

Louis felt really dumb. He twisted this way and that in front of their floor-length mirror and snapped the waistband over his hips. “I look like a twat.” Skinny jeans were one thing. This was on a whole new level of tight. And revealing.

The things he did for Harry, honestly. The leggings were so form-fitting anyone could see the line of his boxers and every twitch of his muscles when he moved. The lads had better not take the piss out of him for this or he’d break into their flats and replace all their sugar with salt.

When he snuck back into the living room, fingers twitching around the hem of Harry’s henley to pull it lower over his hips, he was happy to notice they were all busy chatting to pay him any mind.

That was, until Harry’s head swivelled in his direction as if on instinct--that bordering-on-creepy instinct both of them seemed to have whenever the other entered the room. Harry’s eyes went wide, hand stilling midair where he’d been reaching for a handful of crisps.

Louis raised his eyebrows in a silent question of _how stupid do I look_? Harry just shook his head, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he slowly scanned Louis from head to toe, gaze lingering on his way back up. When he finally met Louis’ eyes, he looked ready to either murder Louis and wear his skin as a suit or ride him into the mattress. Experience said it was the latter.

Maybe not completely dumb then. All right. Louis could work with this.

The lads had all sprawled over the sofa, Harry and Niall taking the sides and Liam and Zayn in the middle, Niall’s leg hooked over Zayn’s. Louis could have taken the armchair, of course, but _fuck that_. He stopped in front of Harry and was trying to work out the logistics of it all when Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’ hips and pulled him down onto his lap without any warning whatsoever. It was only understandable that Louis squeaked in surprise. 

Harry cackled and narrowly escaped the subsequent pinch to his nipple. Not fair. 

“Finally, Tommo,” Niall said. “So, what are we watching?”

Louis stretched his legs out over Liam and Zayn’s laps and tried to pretend he wasn’t aware of the issue in Harry’s boxers. He could have put on some trackies _at least_ , for God’s sake. Louis was _suffering_ here. “I’m fine with whatever.”

“What even are you wearing?” Liam asked, pulling at the black cotton stretched tightly over Louis’ kneecap. “These are some really tight sweats.”

“Leggings,” Harry corrected immediately, then whispered into Louis’ ear, “you look so fucking hot. Want to bend you over and pull them down just enough so I can spread you open and lick you out.”

Louis’ heels dug into Zayn’s thigh.

“Can you two stop with the dirty talk?” Zayn asked with a fond roll of his eyes, absentmindedly playing with Louis’ toes. Louis felt kind of debauched.

“You heard that?” Harry asked, his cheeks turning red amazingly fast for someone who had just suggested rimming not a foot away from Liam.

“Nah. Louis’ face gave it away.” Zayn gestured to his own face with a smirk. “Goes all slack when he’s turned on.”

Louis snapped his jaw shut. “It does _not._ ”

“Totally does,” Niall said, laughing his loud, open-mouthed laugh that made Louis’ mouth twitch against his will.

“Shut up.” He buried his face in Harry’s neck with a groan, bit down a little and wriggled around, because why should he be the only to suffer here? 

Harry’s cock jerked beneath his bum. 

_Much better._

“I was just, um… telling Lou about… a grocery list. For tomorrow.”

All three of them turned to eye Harry sceptically. 

“Never become a conman,” Niall said while Liam added, “You might actually be the worst liar in the world.”

Zayn just looked on with amusement, one hand wrapped loosely around Louis’ ankle, because despite all the leather jackets and bad habits, he was one cuddly motherfucker.

“Can you watch your tone, please, lads,” Louis said with an underlying threat of _say another word and get whacked in the bollocks._ Only Louis could tease Harry. He probably hadn’t established this firmly enough.

Harry pressed a sly smirk to the top of Louis’ head as Zayn turned pensive and asked, “Have you been baking, babes?”

“Yeah,” Niall joined in, picking up Zayn’s hand so he could play with the rings on his fingers, and chewing god knew what, “What’s the fucking smell? Have you really been shagging in here or something?”

“I don’t smell jizz though. It’s something else,” Zayn said, frowning and looking around as if he could spot some on the walls, which. Not that it hadn’t happened before, but not in at least a week. They weren’t _animals._

“Smells like a massage parlour. Very cinnamon-y,” Liam said, nodding to himself and absentmindedly petting Louis’ thigh. No bloody boundaries, the lot of them. Louis was very much all right with that.

“Ooh,” Louis mocked, “A massage _parlour._ What a fancy word. Did you swallow a dictionary on your way here, Payno?”

“Not really a fancy word, Lou. Is _this_ why you didn’t finish your A-levels on the first try?” Zayn said with a smirk and a challenging arch of his eyebrow. He was so gonna get it. Later. Louis couldn’t be bothered to get his arse off the couch and away from Harry’s lap to tickle Zayn until he begged for mercy.

“Hey,” Harry said, his eyebrows just about meeting in the middle in his best Frida Kahlo impersonation. He was only half placated when Zayn reached over Liam to pat Harry’s forearm. Louis envied Harry’s ability to look vaguely menacing. Louis only ever ended up looking like an angry Chihuahua. Zayn’s words, not Louis’.

“As long as we’re sharing here, for those of you unfamiliar with Zayn’s dark past, he once ran off stage right in front of the entire school auditorium because he was too embarrassed to dance with his classmates in a school recital.” _There. Take that, Malik._

“Cool kids don’t dance,” Zayn said with a shrug, but Louis could see the tips of his ears turning red, so he counted it as a win.

“What about that webcam video of you doing your best stripper impersonation then?” Louis got a face-full of a pillow for his troubles.

“That was one time!”

Niall perked up, the hand holding a handful of crisps pausing halfway to his mouth. “Can I see it?” 

“You already did in real life, babe. Two days ago,” Zayn said with a very sexually provoking lip-bite. Louis was going to heave.

“Yeah,” Niall sighed, eyes turning up to the ceiling at what was obviously a very happy memory. “That was the craic.”

Louis interjected. “I uploaded that video on YouTube anyway. I’ll link you later, Nialler.” He hadn’t, but Zayn didn’t know that.

“You did what?!” Zayn’s jaw nearly hit the floor.

“But why aren’t we talking about Liam here going to massage parlours to get happy endings from girls that aren’t Sophia?” Harry interjected, shaking his head in disapproval. “Honestly.”

“I’m a runner! We… and I… I don’t,” Liam said defensively, turning pleading eyes to Zayn. “My muscles just get stiff!”

“We know, Harry’s just fucking with you,” Zayn said, flicking Liam on the chin, even though Zayn still looked vaguely like he’d seen a ghost. Louis would have to reassure him later about not really having uploaded that video, because he only took pranks _that_ far. 

“Bet that’s not the only thing that gets stiff,” Harry muttered under his breath, chuckling at his own joke. Louis was in love with a nerd who loved penis jokes. They were bloody perfect for each other.

“Still don’t know why it fucking smells like that in here,” Niall said and slid down the couch so he could lean his head on Zayn’s shoulder, feet propped up on the coffee table because he’d been raised in the wild.

“Harry’s cinnamon candles,” Louis finally revealed, kissing said Harry on his masterpiece of a jaw. 

“Lit them up to get rid of the sex smell, eh?” Niall asked, waggling his eyebrows. He’d have been right, if they’d got around to actually _finishing._

“I just like them,” Harry said, one hundred percent sincere, “Smells like home and stuff. Gives the flat a nice atmosphere.” His eyes met Louis’ and Louis knew he was staring, but _fuck_ it. 

“He’s been good, so he deserves them.” So, _so_ good. 

Niall groaned. “Is this about your weird sex thing?”

Louis didn’t dare blink. “No.” _Definitely yes._

Liam bent over Louis’ legs to grab the remote from the coffee table. “Vanilla smells better anyway.”

“Excuse me, Liam—”

“Can we play Fifa, actually? I want to beat Harry’s arse,” Niall said, a beer bottle in his hand--when the fuck had he managed to get one without Louis noticing? 

“Hey,” Louis said, “I’m the only one allowed to spank that bum.” He loved the way Harry huffed a quiet whine into his hair. “Shotgun on the first game!”

Niall handed him a controller without arguing. Once he settled back in his seat, he reached over to blindly caress Zayn’s face, clumsy fingers reaching up to play with his hair. The fact that Zayn let him without even flinching was true love right there. That, and letting Niall ride around his studio on a Segway while he worked on his paintings. He wouldn’t even let Louis breathe near him when there were paint buckets around, because _I know you, Lou, you’ll splatter the paint all over the walls._ Louis reckoned Zayn was right, but still. Discrimination. 

Louis swung his legs around and put them up on the coffee table, resting back against Harry’s chest. “Liam, you’re playing against me, right?” he asked, because he might have loved to give Liam a hard time, but he always made sure Liam felt included. 

“Bloody right I am.”

*******

Harry got more and more restless throughout the game. His fingers kept twitching around Louis’ hips, fingertips just barely edging beneath the waistband to touch bare skin before Harry remembered himself and pulled them out again. Louis may have caused all this, with his very deliberate shifting around and bouncing every time he scored a goal, but. Nobody could prove that, now, could they?

After about a twentieth time Louis did this, Harry dug his fingertips into the purpling bruise on Louis’ hip he had so thoughtfully left there earlier. Louis would never admit out loud how much he liked the unspoken _mine_ Harry had written on his skin.

Probably even more than he liked winning.

“Get in!” he yelled, brandishing the controller in the air like a trophy and giving a particularly invigorating celebratory wriggle on Harry’s lap that made him grip Louis’ hips so hard it almost hurt.

Liam just grinned good-naturedly and offered Louis a fist bump, which he met with gusto. “Good job, Tommo.”

“You too, Payno. A worthy opponent,” Louis acknowledged, to which Liam smiled his eyes-turning-into-slits smile. “Who’s next then? Zaynie? Nialler?”

“You know it,” Niall said. Controllers exchanged hands and Louis slumped back into Harry’s body, warm and cozy and so high-strung it was making Louis’ clothes turn itchy against his skin. 

He turned his face to the side, whispered into Harry’ tense jaw, “You all right there, love?”

“Never better.”

Louis parted his lips, pressed his teeth into Harry’s skin. Harry shivered, heart pounding against Louis’ back like a drum. “Good.” He pulled back and rested his head on Harry’s shoulder. Having a taller boyfriend was really fucking lovely.

“You’re the worst,” Harry huffed into his ear, one hand sliding beneath Louis’ T-shirt to rest on his belly. “Should start calling you Tommo the Tease.”

“That’s my stripper name,” Louis replied seriously, very much wishing Harry was naked and tied to their bed right now so Louis could wreck him properly.

“Lou,” Harry whined, kissing the spot behind his ear with quiet insistence.

“Anything you want, baby?”

“You.”

The slow rub of Harry’s hand on his skin was the best kind of burn. 

“Want to play?” Louis whispered, low enough only for Harry to catch.

When Harry nodded with an added, “please,” Louis’ heart picked up in speed, his skin tight and buzzing.

He shifted up higher so his lips pressed right against Harry’s ear, one hand cupping the side of Harry’s jaw to tilt his head toward Louis a bit more. What he was about to suggest had better not be overheard. “Go to our room. Say you need to go the bathroom or something, make shit up.” He nipped at Harry’s hot-to-touch earlobe. “When you’re there, lube up _really_ well and put a plug up your bum. The glittery one. Then come back.”

Harry’s breath hitched in his throat and for a moment Louis was sure he’d have crescent shaped marks on his belly until the next day. “You don’t have to,” he added, just because.

“No, I… yeah, want to. _Really_ want to.”

It took Harry a few deep breaths and a stammered out excuse of going to the bathroom before he disappeared. The lads barely spared him a second glance, too focused on the intense game of Fifa. Louis didn’t even know who was winning. 

He bit down on the inside of his cheek and placed a throw cushion over his lap. 

*******

When Harry came back ten minutes later, he looked normal enough. Normal enough unless the observer was Louis, who immediately caught the glazed over look in Harry’ eyes, the quickened pace of his breath and too tight clutch of his hands on Louis’ waist when he sat down again.

“Love you,” Louis said, traced the valleys of Harry’s knuckles with his fingertips to calm him down. 

Harry nuzzled his neck in reply. He felt ready to buzz out of his skin, even though his movements were slow and relaxed and _expectant._ Louis wished he could see his face head-on right now, see the red creeping into his cheeks and the slow sweep of his lashes.

“Are you sniffing me, love?”

“Mmm,” Harry hummed and took a deliberately loud whiff of Louis’ hair, dragged his nose along the nape of Louis’ neck. “You smell really good. And your hair’s all nice today.”

“You two have the weirdest kinks,” Niall said.

Louis swallowed back a laugh because _yeah._ And Niall didn’t even know that Harry was sitting there, rock hard, with a plug stuffed up his bum.

“I just like Lou’s hair,” Harry said, arms banded tightly around Louis’ waist. Louis couldn’t help but think that every time he’d bounce a little, Harry’s plug would rub against all the right places. He needed to dunk his head in cold water _right now._ “’S all soft. I like it best when it’s like this. All wax-free and stuff.” Harry combed his fingers through Louis’ hair, scratched his scalp a little. If Louis was any less of a strong human being, he’d have started purring. As it was, he just got even harder. Thank god his henley was big and loose enough to cover that up. “Means I can do this.”

“Well, I’d have said I liked any hair on you, but okay.” He pinched Harry’s thigh and jiggled around on his lap to make him suffer. Harry’s choked little gasp meant it had worked. “Does this mean you only love me for my hair?”

Harry coaxed him to tilt his head back on his shoulder, bent down to kiss the sharp edge of Louis’ cheekbone. “I’ll still love you when you’re old and bald.”

“You better,” Louis said with a pout and admired Harry’s ability to act relatively normal. Louis was going to reward him so, so well. “Not sure I can say the same though. I’m just in it for the curls.”

Harry dug his fingers into Louis’ ribs in a swift and cruel tickle, making him jump on Harry’s lap. Luckily, Niall’s enthused yell when he scored the final goal and Louis’ manic giggle covered up Harry’s moan.

“Bad, bad idea,” Harry mumbled breathlessly. When Louis caressed the back of Harry’s hand, he could feel the shivers zipping over Harry’s skin.

“That’s karma for you, love.”

“Want to play against me now, Haz?” Niall asked, grinning, high off his victory. Louis was pretty sure that Zayn, who was watching on fondly, had let Niall win. And _they_ called Louis and Harry disgusting. Hypocrites, the both of them.

“Win and I’ll let you rim me,” Louis whispered quickly, curled his toes into the coffee table when Harry squeezed him tight.

“Bring it on!” 

*******

Harry won.

Louis really shouldn’t have been surprised, but he’d expected it to be more of a challenge, considering how long Harry had been teetering on edge. 

It was a good thing he couldn’t see Harry’s face because the constant kisses to the nape of his neck and the possessive way he gripped Louis’ hip was enough to make his breath stutter. Enough to lose to Zayn in the next round of their Fifa tournament.

“You okay, Lou?” Zayn asked after the humiliating defeat of 8:2. Was this how Brazil had felt?

It took him a moment to get his brain to cooperate, what with all his blood having relocated south of the border. “Um, yeah. Yeah, I’m… bloody great. Ace. _Great_ game.”

Zayn squinted at him, doing his creepy mind-reading routine that Louis really did not appreciate right now. He was so hard his toes felt numb. 

“Motherfucking fuck,” Zayn said suddenly, sat up straight and put the controller down. “Niall, I think we’ve left the oven on.”

Niall blinked at him slowly, even though he was automatically sitting up too. “Oven?” 

“Yeah, shit.” Zayn ran a distressed hand through his hair and Louis would have fallen for his act so hard if it wasn’t for the subtle smirk as he darted a quick glance in Louis’ direction. That sly little—

“Are you sure?” Niall asked. “But we didn’t even—”

“Trust me,” Zayn said and hauled Niall off the couch by his hands.

“Well, let’s hurry then!” Liam said, slipping into his default hero mode.

“But… our lads’ night in?” Harry asked, his arm tightening around Louis’ waist. He didn’t sound as if he particularly minded the quick change of plans. Louis wondered why that was.

“Come around to ours after.” Zayn said and bent down to kiss Louis on the cheek, whispering a very amused, “you’re welcome.”

Louis didn’t blush often, hardly at all, but he was definitely turning red now. “Zayn—”

“It’s fine. I’ve got you. Have fun.”

He straightened up, gave them both a knowing grin and ushered Liam and Niall towards the front door.

“But don’t you need us to let you out?” Harry called out.

“We’re taking the spare key!” Zayn replied right before the door slammed shut. He’d been after that key for months, the clever bastard. Louis couldn’t even begrudge him.

“I love him so much.”

Harry playfully growled, one hand dragging up Louis’ torso to rest on his throat, pulling Louis flush against his chest. If it was anyone else, Louis would have elbowed them so hard they’d be feeling it for days. But it was _Harry_ , and even mock possessive, his grip was gentle and loose and his lips left soft, damp kisses behind Louis’ ear. He couldn’t even _think_ anymore.

“Can we…” Harry let his voice trail off, deep and rough as if he’d been shagged six ways from Sunday already. Christ, Louis wanted to do so much to him. Wanted to keep edging him until he fell to pieces.

“Yeah, yes.” He swallowed hard, tried to blink the Harry sex haze out of his mind. It didn’t work. “So, about that promise…”

Harry lifted him off his lap as if he weighed nothing and set him down on his knees on the sofa so he could slip right behind. “Can I?”

Louis just nodded and gripped the armrest to keep his balance. “How do you want me?”

Harry bit down on the back of his neck and whined, hips grinding into Louis’ arse restlessly. Christ, he was really hard up for it. 

“Want you on our bed, legs spread as far as they can go, back arched and torso flat on the mattress. Want you to stay in that position until I say otherwise,” Harry said in his instructor voice and _fuck._ He knew Louis was so weak for it.

“Not sure I can hold it,” Louis admitted, closed his eyes at the feel of Harry’s massive hands rubbing up and down the inside of his thighs, coaxing them open just a bit.

“Please.”

“Yeah, okay. Okay.” They somehow managed to make it to the bedroom without falling over, Harry panting into his neck as if he’d ran a marathon. It wasn’t until Louis reached for the leggings that Harry said, “Don’t. I’ll do it.”

Louis let his hands fall to his sides and backed towards the bed, watched Harry strip off his T-shirt and stand there in just his boxers. He was flushed all the way down to his chest, a single drop of sweat trickling down over the butterfly.

“You’re so bloody hot.”

“Says _you,_ ” Harry said, a dimple in his cheek.

Louis wanted to press his thumb into it, but reached over to the nightstand to take out a tiny remote control instead. Harry’s eyes tracked his every move, hungry and intent. Their eyes met dead on in the few beats of suspenseful silence, the bedroom walls washed in the hues of sundown. 

Louis brushed his thumb over the small button, his heart pounding against his ribcage in sync with the rise and fall of Harry’s chest, still golden from the long summer days. “You’ve been so good for me.”

Harry’s mouth went slack the second Louis pushed the button. “Fuck, _Lou._ ”

He staggered up to Louis on unsteady feet, knotting his hand in Louis’ hair with gentle ferocity. The weight of his body pressed Louis into the mattress, mouth hot and open and insistent, a wet electric friction that made Louis’ skin feel too tight to contain the enormity of all this _want_ and _need._

“You don’t know what you do to me,” Harry said, resting his lips on the corner of Louis’ mouth as though he couldn’t bear to pull away completely.

“Pretty sure you’re buzzing right now,” Louis joked with a breathless laugh, and caressed the broad planes of Harry’s back until he was gripping the base of Harry’s vibrating plug through his pants. “Can’t believe how hot you are.” He twisted it, pushed it in as deep as it would go. 

Harry bit down on Louis’ lip so hard he almost drew blood. “Won’t… last.”

Louis turned it off for now, because he knew Harry’s limits, could recognise the desperation in each word, in the wild, needy look on his flushed face.

“Let’s give you a breather before I turn it on again, yeah?”

Harry nodded, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. “Can I… now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis said as they scooted higher up on the mattress, the back of his neck sweaty from the heat boiling under his skin. The sight of Harry’s hard cock stretching out the fabric of his pants obscenely didn’t help one bit.

“Get in the position, Lou.”

Louis rolled over on his belly and lifted his hips off the bed, spread his thighs as far as he could without going into split and kept his torso planted on the mattress. His thighs burned a little, but not as badly as they would have months ago. 

Harry took a deep, shuddering breath. The mattress dipped where he kneed up behind Louis, his palm sliding up Louis’ spine to bring the henley up with it. It bunched around Louis’ shoulder blades, all big and loose, Harry’s scent woven into the soft fabric.

“Wish you could… wish you could see yourself,” Harry said quietly, almost in awe, trembling fingers peeling the waistband of the leggings over the round curve of Louis’ bum. The waistband dug into his thighs and under his bum a little with his legs stretched so far out. It just made his skin burn that much hotter.

Louis hid his burning face in the sheets, because when it was just them in the quiet shadows of their shared bedroom, Harry always made Louis feel as if Harry’s entire world narrowed down to Louis. As if Louis’ every flaw was the biggest turn on and giving himself over to Harry so completely didn’t make him any less of a man. “I… I’ve seen your Louis folder on your phone, babe. P-pretty sure I have seen it all.”

“Not the same,” Harry said, wispy curls tickling Louis’ lower back. “Wish you could see it the way I do. You’re so…” His damp lips sucked a bruise into Louis’ tailbone as he slowly rolled the leggings down to Louis’ knees and tugged them off his legs completely.

“You’re dawdlin—”

Harry spread him out with his thumbs, licked over him slow and wet and excruciating, because Louis had promised not to move, even though he wanted nothing more than to push back into Harry’s skillful mouth. 

“Love the way you taste.”

“I showered. Thoroughly,” Louis said, squeezing his eyes shut when Harry gave little kitten licks over his hole, refusing to go in any deeper yet. “All… squeaky clean. _Everywhere._ ”

“I know,” Harry said, amused. A bit too smug, maybe.

Louis clutched the remote in his hand and pushed the button to turn the vibrating plug in Harry’s bum on just as Harry dipped his tongue inside with a deep, guttural moan. Just the thought of what Harry must have been feeling right now had him embarrassingly close to desperate.

“Harry, Harry, _Harr_ —”

His tongue just kept pushing and pushing and pushing, in the most heady kind of stretch that had Louis fisting the sheets with his free hand. It was twenty percent about the feeling itself and eighty percent about it being _Harry_. Harry’s lips and tongue and eagerness. The way he made deep little humming noises, the way he clutched Louis’ arse cheeks hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises behind. How he couldn’t seem to get enough and fed off each noise Louis couldn’t suppress in his throat.

Harry slid his tongue out, warm breath puffing over Louis’ damp skin. “Lou, so close. _Please._ ”

Louis turned the vibe off for now, felt his own cock sway to the beat of his heartbeat and drip pulses of precome down on the sheets. “I know, I know.”

Harry went back down on him with his usual enthusiasm, fingers digging into Louis’ flesh, hot tongue swiping and swirling and pushing inside in a mock thrusting motion that had Louis lightheaded and needy for more. When he thought he was going to collapse from the way his thighs wouldn’t stop shaking, Harry closed his mouth over him and _sucked_ , then kissed him soft and gentle and reverent, groaning as if _he_ was the one bent over on the mattress. Louis wanted to give him so much. More than he’d ever wanted to give anyone. 

“H-harry,” he mumbled into the sheets, his voice wrecked from the whimpers and the embarrassing little keening noises he couldn’t have stopped if he’d tried. “Want to… want to ride you.”

Harry bit down on his cheek. The sharp shock of pain sparked white-hot heat all the way down to Louis’ curled toes. 

“Are you sure?” He nuzzled Louis’ lower back, hands sliding lower to grip Louis’ thighs.

“Yeah.” Louis was versatile. He’d just never really liked it as much. Not before Harry. Couldn’t quite let go enough to let anyone in so deep, let anyone see him stripped right down to his marrow. He liked control, liked to be on top of things, and Harry _got it_. Never pushed him too far or demanded something beyond Louis’ comfort zone, always knew just what he needed. Knew the right way to touch him to make him feel safe enough to let go, too.

“Gonna prep you, yeah?”

“You better,” Louis said breathlessly, trying not to melt into the bedspread under the gentle caresses of Harry’s soft hands. “Massive cock and all.”

Harry barked out a delighted laugh and pressed his grinning mouth to the nape of Louis’ neck. “You can lie down a bit. Don’t want you to get a cramp.”

Louis collapsed on the bed without further argument, stars exploding behind his eyelids when Harry pushed one then two of his slicked up fingers right in. Must have gotten lube when Louis had got too deep inside his own head to notice. Always there to take care of Louis. Fuck, he loved Harry so much his chest ached with it sometimes.

“Love you.”

“Love you too,” Harry replied softly, and scissored his fingers in a maddening stretch. Louis wanted it all, everything, _right away_ , but told himself to be patient. To not rush. Told himself not to start rutting into the sheets and end this before it even began.

“More,” Louis urged after a few minutes of torturously slow drag of Harry’s fingers right over his prostate, arched his back to get Harry in deeper.

He pushed in a third finger and spent the next ten minutes prepping Louis so well his inner thighs were sticky with lube and saliva, his muscles shaking and twitching with need as if his body had already disconnected form his brain.

“If you keep going, I won’t… won’t last a minute.”

“That’s okay. Don’t think I’ll last long either. The plug feel so...” Harry fell on his back next to him, pupils blown out enough to edge the green almost entirely out. “Hop on.”

“Rude.” Louis twisted Harry’s nipple in reply, which only made Harry bite down on his lip and moan as if he couldn’t get enough. If Louis wasn’t so desperate to be filled, he’d have tied Harry to the bed and put clamps on his puffy nipples. 

“Please, Lou, come on.”

Louis straddled his hips, the henley fluttering back down to his hips. Harry looked almost regretful when Louis swiped it impatiently over his head, but his face screwed up in pleasure the second Louis reached behind to rub the head of Harry’s cock over his slick hole. “Fuck, you’re big.”

“Go slow,” Harry rasped out, his hands clenching and unclenching on Louis’ thighs. 

“Trust me, I will.” He sank down excruciatingly slowly, breathing through the stretch of the thick head sliding past the rim. The smallest twinge of pain was there, yeah, but he was too hot to notice, his skin too tight, electricity humming through his veins. 

“Lou, _fuck._ Oh my god.” Harry’s fingers dug into Louis’ thighs like a white-hot brand as he parted Louis’ body with his, his neck strained with the effort to keep himself still. 

“So good, f-fuck, yes,” Louis whimpered, kept sinking down inch by inch until he was sitting on top of Harry’s tense thighs, filled to the brim and out of breath. His fingertips that he trailed down the planes of Harry’s torso felt as if they could catch on fire any minute now.

Harry just looked up at him with dazed eyes, sweaty curls sticking to his temples and Louis had to kiss him, keened at the change of the angle when he bent down to lick a little droplet of salt from the teardrop-shaped dip above Harry’s upper lip. 

“You feel really fucking good,” Louis told him, brushing their mouths together in an unhurried kiss before he rose up and dropped down again.

Harry’s grip tightened. “You’re really, really tight. Hot and… _wet._ ”

“Yeah,” Louis said with a shaking laugh just as he ground down with the sound of slick skin on slick skin as their dirty soundtrack. The unrelenting drag of Harry’s cock over his prostate on every downstroke was making his head feel fuzzy and light. 

He straightened up again, let his head drop back because it was too much, that feeling of connection and Harry’s touch setting his skin on fire, knowing the plug would rub inside Harry every time Louis sank down. But he needed more still, reached behind to hold onto Harry’s thighs in a trembling grip as he started pumping his hips up and down, up and down, _up and down_ in a desperately quickening pace. He could feel Harry’s heartbeat pound a staccato rhythm against his walls, could only imagine what he looked like to Harry right now, all spread open and stretched over the wide girth of his cock, barely able to keep his eyes open because it felt so overwhelmingly _good._

“Ngh, Lou. God.” The sound Harry made was rough and helpless, his hands holding onto Louis’ waist to bounce him on his cock.

“Fuck, _Harry_ , too much, I’m—” He was going to fly apart, explode into little particles and never be found again.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

Louis barely felt the strain in his thighs, not over the sizzling heat building in his belly and shooting sparks out into his veins. Not over the sight of Harry so debauched and open, so _Louis’_ , gazing up at him as if the rest of the universe didn’t even exist.

“So good, Harry, so, so _good._ ”

“I know, I don’t think I can—”

It wasn’t until Louis dropped his palms on each side of Harry’s head that he remembered the _remote._ Wrapped his fingers around the little piece of plastic tangled up in the sheets and dropped down on Harry’s cock until he bottomed out, stayed there to rock back and forth and in little figure eights that made Harry’s eyes roll into the back of his head and his fingers claw at Louis’ thighs helplessly. 

“Lou, _please_ , can I come?”

Louis shook his head, unable to speak through the little mewling noises each upward thrust of Harry’s hips was punching out of his throat. He gripped the remote hard and moaned loud enough to be heard in the next flat building when Harry trailed a fingertip down his dripping cock.

“So hard,” he whispered, swiped his thumb over the head and brought it to his mouth. His cheeks hollowed out around his finger and Louis had fucking _had it._

“You can… now.” He pushed the button, saw Harry’s eyes fly open, his free hand holding onto Louis’ bum for dear life. All he felt was Harry’s fingertip graze his rim, cock pulsing and throbbing inside him as Harry came, and he was coming apart too, brain blanking out as he shot come all over Harry’s belly and right up to his chin. Harry kept gripping him, kept chanting his name as if it was the only word he knew how to speak, his hand warm and solid and familiar on his spine when Louis dropped down to rest on his chest as they slowly descended down from their high, sweaty bodies jerking in aftershocks.

He could still feel his own cock pulse out the last drops of come on Harry’s belly. He couldn’t wait to rub it all over Harry’s butterfly and taste his bitten lips, but. Later. When he could move without his legs giving out. He cuddled up into Harry’s neck instead, breathed him in and said, “I think I’d make a really good horse rider.”

Harry just laughed and held him close.

*******

If this was a prank, Louis was definitely not laughing. He was _outraged._

“What do you mean there’s no class today?” Harry asked, brandishing a bag of yoga mats as a weapon. “I’m the teacher and—”

“Sorry, Mr., uh…”

“Styles.”

“Styles,” the bulky man repeated, sunshine bouncing off his bald head. “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to evacuate the premises. As I said, the gym has been booked for the day. The Chancellor—”

“—is a self entitled prick,” Louis supplied with a smile. Who the fuck cared if some Republican twits were coming to visit the school anyway? If they had a problem with yoga, they had a problem with Louis.

The man frowned then turned to Harry again as if Louis didn’t even exist. He may have been height challenged, but he definitely wasn’t _harmless._

“As I said, you’re going to have to leave.”

“What about my class though! It’s too late to e-mail my students now. They’re probably on their way already. You should have notified me of this earlier.”

“Don’t know about that. Just doing my job, mate,” the man said with a shrug, obviously not giving a fuck.

“Come on, babe,” Louis said and took Harry’s hand in his. He saw the man stare down at the point of contact with an uncomfortably pinched expression on his meaty face. Louis resisted the urge to snog Harry right there to show him something to be really uncomfortable around, but. He had a much better plan.

“Lou, but we need to—”

“Listen. We’re doing this the Tommo way.”

“Oh no.”

Louis lifted Harry’s hand to kiss the back of it, grinning all the way. “Oh yes.”

*******

They camped out in the parking lot while Harry sent out a group e-mail and waited until the last straggler showed up to let them know the class had been cancelled for the day. Not that they were done, Louis could finally cause some mischief. He was, quite frankly, buzzing.

He dragged Harry into a back alley behind the building, kissing him quiet when he sensed a protest coming.

“Lou, what are we—”

He kissed Harry again, short and sweet, just because. “Shh, see that control panel over there?”

Harry nodded, still frowning because he was too much of a good boy to even think of what Louis was about to do.

“It’s the power to the whole gym. All you have to do is push a button.”

He saw the second Harry connected the dots, glanced around nervously as though he expected to find the Chancellor hovering over his shoulder. “Louis, don’t—”

“I’m going to push the button.”

“Lou.”

“There are no CCTV cameras around. Just the one by the main entrance and it already looks like we’ve left,” Louis said, scanning their surroundings. They wouldn’t bother checking it anyway, Louis was sure of that. They’d just think it was power shortage, but it was much more fun to pretend otherwise. “If we leave this way and roll behind the bushes to avoid the other camera on the corner of the MT building, nobody will ever know.”

When Harry sighed, his mouth twitching with the beginnings of a smile, Louis knew he had him.

“Put your hair up, Styles, we’re going in.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t landed us in jail yet.”

“I’m saving that for our tenth anniversary.” He watched as Harry put his long hair up in a tiny bun and tried not to drool down his T-shirt. “Let’s go.”

He pressed his back against the wall and tiptoed his way over to the control panel with Harry’s breath warm on the back of his neck.

“Why are we sneaking around?” Harry whispered.

“Because it’s cool.” Louis dropped down into a sudden roll and jumped to his feet again when he reached the panel, beckoned Harry closer over his shoulder.

Harry just grinned and pirouetted his way toward him. Good lad.

Opening the control took _a lot_ of expertise. All that opening and grunting made Louis feel like a proper criminal. Life goal achieved.

_Fuck the Man._

Louis pressed a heated kiss to Harry’s mouth, licked over the cupid bow of those plump lips because _why the fuck not_. He was high on adrenaline, on the way Harry tasted on Saturday mornings.

They parted with a slick sound, gazes locked as Louis held his index finger over the red button.

“Do it,” Harry said, nostrils flaring.

Louis pushed the button.

A beat of expectant silence passed before Louis’ brain kicked into gear, told him _now would be a rather good time to get the fuck out before they come check_ in a rather offensively sarcastic way.

“Come on, Harold, don’t just stand there. Let’s go!”

He grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him along until they were sprinting out of the alley at full-speed, laughing and kicking the dust up with their pounding feet, ducking behind the bushes and crawling on their bellies as if they were escaping a high-end robbery. Louis was so in love with this boy.

They giggled all the way to their car, grass-stained and flushed, stealing kisses and touching warm skin. 

“Let’s go home and have sex,” Harry suggested, hands cupping Louis’ bum to pull him close in a way that had Louis have flashbacks of the night before. Maybe at one point he’d stop craving Harry every bloody day like he craved tea right before bed, but today was not it. Doubted he’d _ever_ stop, even when he was seventy and could barely get it up.

Louis’ frustrated “Can’t,” was muffled in Harry’s chest. “Got some stuff to take care of for our date tonight.”

“But I’m horny _now._ ”

“Later,” Louis promised, firm not to give in to Harry’s pleading eyes and the tempting heat of his body.

“Fine. Going to have a wank then. Just me and my hand. All alone.” He jutted his bottom lip out in a pout, one hand sliding up Louis’ spine to tangle in his hair. “Sad.”

“Shit.” Not fucking fair. Harry knew very well how much Louis liked to watch him do that, whisper filthy suggestions in Harry’s ear while he tugged on his own cock, working up a sweat that made the hair at the nape of his neck curl even more. “Okay. But don’t come.”

Harry’s breath hitched in chest. “And what if I do?”

“You won’t.” Louis knew he wouldn’t, knew Harry was just testing his boundaries, see how much he meant it. Harry loved to be kept on edge, teased. Loved it when Louis made him work for it, just like he had last night.

“Lou.”

“You can do it. I know you can.”

“You better hurry.”

Louis’ filthy smile was worth more than a promise.

*******

Louis had never been more nervous in his entire life. Not when he’d had to fess up to his mum that he’d failed his A-levels or that he liked boys better than girls. Not even now as he hopped up into the chair in a tattoo parlour. It was the aftermath he was terrified of. The little velvet box hidden in the pocket of his hoodie.

“You all right, mate? You look a little pale,” the tattoo artist asked. “It doesn’t hurt _that_ bad, I promise.”

“I’m fine. Just… you’re popping my cherry here, you know,” he said, because if he started talking about the real reason he was feeling faint he’d probably throw up on the bloke’s shoes.

The tattoo artist just smirked beneath his impressive moustache and put the needle to Louis’ skin.

And fucking hell, he was a big fat liar, because it _really_ hurt.

*******

“Do I have to be blindfolded?”

“Yes,” Louis answered simply and tried not tap his fingers against the steering wheel as he rounded the corner onto the familiar street. He’d already tried to get the jitters out of his system by running around the flat building fifteen times and jumping on the bed while screaming into a pillow. It had worked. For about twenty minutes.

“Are we there yet?” Harry asked once again, because he was actually a five-year-old child. Louis was going to _marry_ him. _Fuck._ He gripped the steering wheel and dragged in a calming breath. He was going to marry him.

“Yeah. Let me just,” he jumped out of the car and hurried over to open the door for Harry, helped him out with a steady hand on Harry’s elbow, “There we go.”

“Can I take it off now?”

“Patience, Harold. You love surprises, remember?”

He honest to god pouted, but let Louis take his hand and lead him down the sidewalk nonetheless. Even after a year, the amount of trust Harry had in him still managed to awe him.

“Almost there, yeah?”

“But we’re outside.”

“An excellent observation, that. Wouldn’t have realised it myself.”

“Stop being nervous, Lou, you’re making _me_ nervous.”

“I am not—”

A pair of teenagers passing them by gave them odd glances. Fair enough. 

“Yes, you are. You’re being sarcastic, which means you’re out of sorts and trying to act tough. Don’t think I don’t know you.”

He did. He knew Louis better than anyone. Seen him in ways nobody else ever had and it should have scared Louis shitless, but it just made him want to keep Harry by his side for as long as he could.

“Whatever it is you’re planning, I’ll love it, all right? You know I will.”

Louis drew them to a stop just so he could steal a quick kiss. Harry just smiled against his lips and squeezed his hand.

“I’m loving this surprise already.”

The rings burned a hole in Louis’ pocket. “I love you a whole fucking lot, Harry Styles.”

“I _am_ very loveable.”

Louis just rolled his eyes and guided Harry off the sidewalk towards the little playground in the middle of nowhere. The middle of nowhere Louis had been searching for all day.

He let go of Harry’s hand and wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs, glad that Harry hadn’t commented on that. “You can take it off now.”

Harry whipped it off and blinked against the dim glow of the nearby street lamp. “Lou.”

“Yeah, so, I thought,” he pulled at the hem of his T-shirt, the blazer too tight and suffocating, “this is where we kissed for the first time last year and… I hope you don’t think this is the cheesiest, lamest—”

Harry tackled him to the grass, the impact almost knocking the breath out of Louis’ lungs. It was Harry’s kiss that did it. Slow and deep, with the kind of quiet urgency that had Louis holding him tight.

“I take it you like it then?”

“Fuck, Lou, I just baked you a cake in the shape of a kiss and got you sex vouchers.”

“ _Just?_ ” he asked in disbelief, because _hell yes_. To all of it. Maybe he’d smear the frosting all over Harry’s nipples then lick it off so slowly Harry would lose his mind. “I’m _all_ for that.”

“But,” Harry left a trail of little kisses all over Louis’ face, “this is so much more thoughtful.”

“That’s not all though.”

“Are you joking?”

“You’re way too easy to please, baby.” Louis gave him a sheepish smile and pulled them off the ground. “Sit somewhere so I can show you.”

Harry glanced around a bit before his gaze settled on the swings. He sat down on a plastic plank and wrapped his hands around the chains. 

He was wearing his sheer shirt unbuttoned indecently low and Louis couldn’t stop staring at the butterfly. Couldn’t stop from fidgeting as he took his blazer off and let it drop on Harry’s lap.

“I got a… to match yours, because I want you to know that I’m in this for the long haul and,” he stammered out, held his arm out to show Harry the little doodle of a flower tattooed on his inner arm. “There were flowers on the sketch of the butterfly you got and it reminded me of you and I just… I want to carry a permanent part of you with me forever, so I… yeah.”

“Louis,” Harry said, gentle fingers wrapping around his wrist to pull him closer. “You can have a year worth of sex vouchers.”

Louis pressed his smile into Harry’s shoulder, left a quick kiss there and dropped to one knee before he lost his nerve.

“Um… Are you okay?”

“I want ten years worth of vouchers. Fuck that, actually. I want at least fifty. Vouchers and getting to kiss you every morning and sing along to _Grease_ together and get to laugh at your jokes because they’re so dumb they’re funny and,” he squeezed Harry’s suddenly clammy hand, “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. I’ve never wanted to _grow old_ with anyone. And I know things suck a bit for you right now, but one day we’ll save up enough money to buy you your own studio so you can do what you love and I want to do it all together, the good and the bad. I just hope that… I hope you want it too.”

Harry was biting down on his lip as he did every time they watched a sad film that made him want to cry.

“Will you marry me, Harry?”

Harry slapped his free hand over his mouth and made a choking noise in the back of his throat, and if it hadn’t been for Louis swiftly steadying him, he’d have toppled off the swing. Louis coaxed him down to the ground before he took the velvet box out of the blazer’s pocket.

“I bought two, for both of us,” he explained, watching his shaking hands take Harry’s bigger ring out of the box rather than watch Harry, because he _still_ hadn’t said anything and Louis was about to jump out of his skin. “I had ‘babycakes’ engraved into yours, but left mine blank, so you could… you can choose what you want to put there if…”

“Lou, look at me.”

All Louis saw before he got a face-full of curly hair was Harry’s quivering chin, a whispered _yesyesyes_ making the tidal wave of relief flood his too tight lungs.

“Yes, I do, I do.” 

“Thank fuck!”

“As if I’d ever say no!”

“I didn’t _know._ ”

Harry laughed wetly into his shoulder and Louis didn’t know how long they sat there hugging, didn’t even care when his knees started to ache and his eyes stung because he was a sympathy crier and Harry bloody well knew that. He was just so fucking _happy._ He squeezed Harry even tighter, palm pressed into the centre of Harry’s back to pull him in impossibly close.

“Can I put ‘sweetcheeks’ on yours?” Harry mumbled into his neck. “Because you’re sweet and it’s also an ode to your bum.”

Louis just giggled and pulled away so he could cup Harry’s face and press a kiss to his cherry lips. “You can.”

“Put it on me?” Harry whispered into his mouth, eyelashes clumped with tears. 

Louis rubbed his thumbs under Harry’s eyes then took his hand in his. “As you wish, spouse.”

Harry’s grin was so wide it almost split his face. Louis slid the ring on Harry’s finger and rubbed his thumb over Harry’s dimple. “Happy first anniversary, love.”

Harry took the other white gold band out of the box and put it on Louis, both of them watching the way moonlight glinted off the rings on their tangled hands. This was _forever_ , the very first page of the first chapter and Louis wanted nothing more than to be there for the entire book.

“Happy first anniversary, Lou.”

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DID YOU LIKE? DID YOU?? If not, I'll just be here, crying into my bedspread.
> 
> For any inquiring minds, I picked an alternative tattoo for Louis, because 'It Is What It Is' wouldn't have fit this H&L's situation at all. They're still tattoos by Liam Sparkes tho, look at this sketch here that I found! http://blog.inklers.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/Nielson_Hb_butterfly.jpg

**Author's Note:**

> If you're on Tumblr, you can find me on donotdialnine! :)


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